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 Sweden and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pussy Galore to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Terry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jandek,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Amon Düül II,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Groovy Waters,
Glenn Branca,
Pole,
DNA,
The Cure,
Brand Nubian,
The Gories,
The Fall,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Gladiators,
Mr. Review,
Angry Samoans,
Section 25,
Cal Tjader,
Quando Quango,
Josef K,
Vainqueur,
Donald Byrd,
The Fortunes,
Lindisfarne,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Moody Blues,
Tears for Fears,
Todd Rundgren,
The Grass Roots,
Scratch Acid,
Marvin Gaye,
The Last Poets,
The Stooges,
Aloha Tigers,
Magazine,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Public Image Ltd.,
Hoover,
Faraquet,
Au Pairs,
Excepter,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Camouflage,
Yellowson,
The Zeros,
John Lydon,
Babytalk,
Black Pus,
Gichy Dan,
Cameo,
The Human League,
Prince Buster,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Misunderstood,
the Association,
The Doobie Brothers,
Chris Corsano,
Eric Copeland,
Sound Behaviour,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Amon Düül,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.