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 Ukraine and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Rosa Yemen to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Underground Resistance,
Gichy Dan,
Robert Wyatt,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sister Nancy,
The Litter,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bob Dylan,
Anakelly,
These Immortal Souls,
Radiohead,
Chris & Cosey,
Icehouse,
Panda Bear,
Duran Duran,
The Toasters,
The Blues Magoos,
Basic Channel,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tom Boy,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Offenders,
Das Ding,
Slick Rick,
Black Moon,
Brothers Johnson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Surgeon,
Donald Byrd,
Absolute Body Control,
Marshall Jefferson,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Sonics,
Brass Construction,
Khruangbin,
The Doors,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
DNA,
Soft Cell,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Godley & Creme,
Echospace,
K-Klass,
Rhythm & Sound,
Iggy Pop,
Cecil Taylor,
Saccharine Trust,
Cameo,
China Crisis,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Detroit Cobras,
Arab on Radar,
Motorama,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Excepter,
Drive Like Jehu,
Joy Division,
Qualms,
Essential Logic,
Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon.
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.