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 Zimbabwe and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bologna.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Birthday Party to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delta 5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Pet Shop Boys,
Marmalade,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Delon & Dalcan,
Reuben Wilson,
Bad Manners,
Arcadia,
Make Up,
Peter & Gordon,
H. Thieme,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Procol Harum,
Quadrant,
OOIOO,
Main Source,
Minutemen,
Scan 7,
Bush Tetras,
Judy Mowatt,
Anakelly,
The Motions,
Archie Shepp,
The Move,
Tom Boy,
The Raincoats,
Todd Terry,
Ornette Coleman,
10cc,
Matthew Halsall,
Scientists,
X-102,
R.M.O.,
Magazine,
John Lydon,
Dennis Brown,
Derrick Morgan,
Byron Stingily,
Swans,
The Young Rascals,
Index,
New Age Steppers,
Derrick May,
Nas,
Public Enemy,
Sparks,
Stetsasonic,
Roy Ayers,
Thee Headcoats,
Flash Fearless,
Radio Birdman,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Newcleus,
Sällskapet,
Kas Product,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Aloha Tigers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Velvet Underground,
Absolute Body Control,
Lungfish,
Vladislav Delay,
Dawn Penn,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.