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 Portugal and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 808 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 Underground Resistance to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aaron Thompson 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?
Monks,
FM Einheit,
Unwound,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Associates,
The Cramps,
Radiopuhelimet,
Joey Negro,
The Slits,
Barrington Levy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bauhaus,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
DNA,
B.T. Express,
Mantronix,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Nico,
David Axelrod,
Accadde A,
Marvin Gaye,
The Fall,
Morten Harket,
Jimmy McGriff,
Isaac Hayes,
the Normal,
Kool Moe Dee,
KRS-One,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Barbara Tucker,
MC5,
R.M.O.,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lou Christie,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Danielle Patucci,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kenny Larkin,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rotary Connection,
Grey Daturas,
The Remains,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ralphi Rosario,
Junior Murvin,
Cybotron,
Nirvana,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Shadows of Knight,
Crooked Eye,
The American Breed,
Half Japanese,
Maleditus Sound,
Black Moon,
Altered Images,
Ice-T,
Reuben Wilson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.