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 Cyprus and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 synthesizer 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 Smog to the electroclash 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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Stetsasonic,
Thee Headcoats,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bush Tetras,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Remains,
Jawbox,
Duran Duran,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Black Sheep,
Scott Walker,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Associates,
Goldenarms,
Soul II Soul,
Mary Jane Girls,
Harry Pussy,
Ludus,
Tommy Roe,
Pharoah Sanders,
Boredoms,
Fear,
Cymande,
The Dave Clark Five,
Erykah Badu,
Ohio Players,
Kerri Chandler,
the Germs,
Dennis Brown,
Nirvana,
Graham Central Station,
Minny Pops,
Patti Smith,
The Gories,
Suicide,
The Red Krayola,
Fluxion,
Rekid,
D'Angelo,
Eric Dolphy,
The Black Dice,
Radiohead,
A Certain Ratio,
Ken Boothe,
June of 44,
Gang of Four,
MDC,
Essential Logic,
Brass Construction,
Ronnie Foster,
Soft Machine,
Drexciya,
Urselle,
Altered Images,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jacob Miller,
The Searchers,
LL Cool J,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.