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 Bangladesh and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 JFA to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Arthur Verocai,
The Beau Brummels,
Saccharine Trust,
Gang Starr,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Busters,
Bad Manners,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pantytec,
Scratch Acid,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Smiths,
Ten City,
Blossom Toes,
Kayak,
Al Stewart,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Smog,
X-102,
Los Fastidios,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Babytalk,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tubeway Army,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Bar-Kays,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eric Copeland,
Surgeon,
The Cramps,
FM Einheit,
Tears for Fears,
The Knickerbockers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Slave,
Young Marble Giants,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Golliwogs,
Lebanon Hanover,
Outsiders,
Lalann,
The Young Rascals,
Alice Coltrane,
Althea and Donna,
Dual Sessions,
Pole,
Robert Hood,
Charles Mingus,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Donny Hathaway,
Deadbeat,
Alton Ellis,
Whodini,
Underground Resistance,
The Fugs,
Fat Boys,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
John Foxx,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.