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 Qatar and from Portland.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bluetip to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Gastr Del Sol,
Urselle,
ABBA,
Moss Icon,
Leonard Cohen,
Arab on Radar,
Oneida,
UT,
The Buckinghams,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Monks,
Amon Düül II,
Carl Craig,
X-Ray Spex,
Rod Modell,
Livin' Joy,
The Wake,
Bobby Womack,
Nils Olav,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bob Dylan,
The Fugs,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rosa Yemen,
Neil Young,
Intrusion,
Barrington Levy,
Boz Scaggs,
cv313,
Minnie Riperton,
Lakeside,
Yazoo,
The Associates,
Los Fastidios,
Black Flag,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sparks,
The Walker Brothers,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Dirtbombs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Laurel Aitken,
Fela Kuti,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Monochrome Set,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Das Ding,
Boogie Down Productions,
Deadbeat,
ABC,
A Certain Ratio,
Pole,
Soft Cell,
Kevin Saunderson,
Spoonie Gee,
Depeche Mode,
Don Cherry,
Shoche,
The Detroit Cobras,
Hasil Adkins,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.