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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Procol Harum to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
Trumans Water,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Grey Daturas,
Liliput,
The Happenings,
Metal Thangz,
John Foxx,
R.M.O.,
The Fuzztones,
Eden Ahbez,
Lightning Bolt,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Residents,
Suburban Knight,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Todd Terry,
DJ Sneak,
Howard Jones,
X-101,
The Red Krayola,
Average White Band,
Ralphi Rosario,
Neu!,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
8 Eyed Spy,
Shoche,
Todd Rundgren,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ituana,
MDC,
Pet Shop Boys,
Black Sheep,
The Pop Group,
Lou Christie,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Fall,
Crooked Eye,
Cybotron,
Guru Guru,
Dave Gahan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Marc Almond,
Groovy Waters,
Gabor Szabo,
Sarah Menescal,
Tres Demented,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Marmalade,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Sonics,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Litter,
Mo-Dettes,
Das Ding,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.