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 Botswana and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Paris.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the sitar 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 the Germs to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Big Daddy Kane,
Franke,
Fluxion,
Ten City,
Harry Pussy,
DJ Sneak,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Neon Judgement,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Names,
Funkadelic,
Radio Birdman,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
F. McDonald,
Second Layer,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Selecter,
The Cure,
Brothers Johnson,
Lou Christie,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lower 48,
Roxy Music,
Oblivians,
Television,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bobby Womack,
Index,
Gang Starr,
Gregory Isaacs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cluster,
Cameo,
The Human League,
Gong,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Derrick May,
Fear,
The Slits,
Rosa Yemen,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bluetip,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Cramps,
Dark Day,
Bauhaus,
Sixth Finger,
Bobby Sherman,
Dead Boys,
Idris Muhammad,
The Velvet Underground,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Little Man,
Mars,
the Fania All-Stars,
Warsaw,
The Martian,
Grey Daturas,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.