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 Dominica and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 Portland and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 John Holt to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dave Gahan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Essential Logic,
U.S. Maple,
Harry Pussy,
Robert Wyatt,
Pylon,
The Count Five,
Second Layer,
The Real Kids,
Tim Buckley,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cybotron,
The Smiths,
Thee Headcoats,
Desert Stars,
Blossom Toes,
The Five Americans,
John Coltrane,
The Tremeloes,
Clear Light,
Ultravox,
Bill Near,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cal Tjader,
Harpers Bizarre,
Arthur Verocai,
The Moleskins,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Brick,
Shuggie Otis,
Crispian St. Peters,
Prince Buster,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Goldenarms,
Mandrill,
Sugar Minott,
Avey Tare,
Colin Newman,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Pop Group,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Blues Magoos,
Marc Almond,
Soft Cell,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Nas,
Minor Threat,
JFA,
Charles Mingus,
Cluster,
Lower 48,
David Bowie,
Saccharine Trust,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
Deepchord,
Cecil Taylor,
Carl Craig,
Jandek,
Excepter,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.