Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from South Africa and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Erasure to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cecil Taylor,
Davy DMX,
Neil Young,
Barrington Levy,
Subhumans,
The Gladiators,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Swell Maps,
MC5,
E-Dancer,
OOIOO,
Organ,
Inner City,
The Cowsills,
R.M.O.,
Magazine,
The Gap Band,
Royal Trux,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Idris Muhammad,
John Coltrane,
X-102,
Eve St. Jones,
Cameo,
The Fall,
Livin' Joy,
Whodini,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Amazonics,
Index,
the Germs,
Bluetip,
Matthew Bourne,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Saints,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Heaven 17,
Scott Walker,
Kerrie Biddell,
Todd Terry,
Absolute Body Control,
Spandau Ballet,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Agitation Free,
Girls At Our Best!,
Erykah Badu,
Radiohead,
Joy Division,
Sex Pistols,
DJ Style,
Shuggie Otis,
The Selecter,
the Human League,
Boogie Down Productions,
Suicide,
Interpol,
Ludus,
Pylon,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.