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 New Zealand and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tokyo.
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 rhodes 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the funk 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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grey Daturas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
Severed Heads,
Fad Gadget,
Radiopuhelimet,
Masters at Work,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Anthony Braxton,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Saints,
Trumans Water,
Moss Icon,
New York Dolls,
Y Pants,
Radiohead,
Ultravox,
Ken Boothe,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Real Kids,
Liliput,
Soft Machine,
Sonic Youth,
Suburban Knight,
OOIOO,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Velvet Underground,
Warsaw,
Todd Rundgren,
The Neon Judgement,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cybotron,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lakeside,
Surgeon,
Parry Music,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hoover,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dennis Brown,
Subhumans,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ultimate Spinach,
Yellowson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ituana,
Camouflage,
Boredoms,
Sight & Sound,
Mr. Review,
Joe Finger,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Derrick Morgan,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
DNA,
Rapeman,
Desert Stars,
Scrapy,
The Black Dice,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.