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 Oman and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lagos.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Kevin Saunderson. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
The Dead C,
Japan,
Wire,
Susan Cadogan,
Clear Light,
Lower 48,
The Selecter,
Bobby Byrd,
Hardrive,
Fluxion,
Sandy B,
Flamin' Groovies,
Wings,
The Angels of Light,
Depeche Mode,
Ronan,
Bill Near,
The Cramps,
Swans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Scrapy,
Barrington Levy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Henry Cow,
Leonard Cohen,
Lyres,
Magma,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sugar Minott,
John Coltrane,
Tears for Fears,
Aural Exciters,
Mars,
Circle Jerks,
Chris Corsano,
China Crisis,
The Human League,
Goldenarms,
Amon Düül II,
Oblivians,
Grandmaster Flash,
Carl Craig,
the Germs,
Boredoms,
Bronski Beat,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Eddi Front,
Pantytec,
Joy Division,
cv313,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mission of Burma,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Searchers,
Soft Cell,
Rakim,
The Pop Group,
The Saints,
Jacob Miller,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.