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 Palau and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Cameo to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ultravox,
Swell Maps,
Maleditus Sound,
Qualms,
Ultra Naté,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ornette Coleman,
Sandy B,
JFA,
Fad Gadget,
Hoover,
Mr. Review,
The Mummies,
Sex Pistols,
Jesper Dahlback,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Piero Umiliani,
Trumans Water,
Circle Jerks,
Bad Manners,
Soft Machine,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Matthew Bourne,
Audionom,
Deakin,
Kerri Chandler,
Lightning Bolt,
The Electric Prunes,
Sight & Sound,
Traffic Nightmare,
Suicide,
Cybotron,
Warren Ellis,
Delon & Dalcan,
Scrapy,
X-Ray Spex,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Roger Hodgson,
This Heat,
Stockholm Monsters,
R.M.O.,
The Martian,
The Divine Comedy,
Bob Dylan,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Aaron Thompson,
Joyce Sims,
Mo-Dettes,
Agitation Free,
DNA,
The Vogues,
Cymande,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jacob Miller,
Gang Starr,
F. McDonald,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Joey Negro,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.