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 Nepal and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the grime 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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
The Electric Prunes,
The Gun Club,
The Cowsills,
Donald Byrd,
Pussy Galore,
Goldenarms,
Sonny Sharrock,
Scott Walker,
The Remains,
Panda Bear,
Youth Brigade,
The Selecter,
Motorama,
Eric B and Rakim,
Glambeats Corp.,
Peter and Kerry,
Crispian St. Peters,
Infiniti,
Country Teasers,
Von Mondo,
Skarface,
Sonic Youth,
Camouflage,
Davy DMX,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Y Pants,
B.T. Express,
Oneida,
Bobby Sherman,
FM Einheit,
The Modern Lovers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Evens,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Cybotron,
Stereo Dub,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Invisible,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Ornette Coleman,
Liliput,
Shuggie Otis,
Matthew Halsall,
The Cure,
Jeff Lynne,
The Searchers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jacques Brel,
Wally Richardson,
Rakim,
Arab on Radar,
This Heat,
Stetsasonic,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Durutti Column,
Procol Harum,
Soft Machine,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.