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 Ivory Coast and from Taipei.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Grandmaster Flash to the jazz 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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
The Toasters,
Prince Buster,
Make Up,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Clear Light,
The Dirtbombs,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ronnie Foster,
Kerri Chandler,
Royal Trux,
UT,
Patti Smith,
Sound Behaviour,
T. Rex,
Inner City,
Harry Pussy,
Freddie Wadling,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Crash Course in Science,
Cluster,
Todd Terry,
Rites of Spring,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lee Hazlewood,
Erasure,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ice-T,
K-Klass,
Das Ding,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pere Ubu,
Brass Construction,
Minnie Riperton,
Pharoah Sanders,
Eric Copeland,
Maleditus Sound,
The Beau Brummels,
Minutemen,
Agent Orange,
Jeff Lynne,
Todd Rundgren,
The Grass Roots,
Scion,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Television Personalities,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Germs,
The Cramps,
The Blackbyrds,
Ludus,
Nick Fraelich,
Aural Exciters,
Lower 48,
Yazoo,
Steve Hackett,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.