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 United States and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Stetsasonic to the crunk 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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
John Holt,
The Sonics,
John Foxx,
Camouflage,
Soul Sonic Force,
Agitation Free,
Morten Harket,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ornette Coleman,
This Heat,
Guru Guru,
Desert Stars,
The Litter,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cheater Slicks,
The Sound,
Scott Walker,
48th St. Collective,
Audionom,
Kurtis Blow,
Goldenarms,
Ronan,
Sugar Minott,
The Birthday Party,
Robert Görl,
Jimmy McGriff,
X-Ray Spex,
Groovy Waters,
Sam Rivers,
The Last Poets,
Black Moon,
Outsiders,
Moss Icon,
The Stooges,
Gang Green,
Charles Mingus,
Flipper,
The Moody Blues,
Matthew Halsall,
Fluxion,
Make Up,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Symarip,
Harmonia,
Letta Mbulu,
Scrapy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Shuggie Otis,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Arthur Verocai,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Maurizio,
Visage,
Brick,
cv313,
H. Thieme,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tommy Roe,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.