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 Fiji and from London.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Shanghai.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gang of Four to the crunk 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Main Source,
Johnny Clarke,
Interpol,
The Kinks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
PIL,
Minutemen,
Loose Ends,
Essential Logic,
Isaac Hayes,
Tom Boy,
Grauzone,
Roger Hodgson,
The Red Krayola,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Golliwogs,
James Chance & The Contortions,
OOIOO,
Scion,
Ponytail,
Country Teasers,
The Index,
The Alarm Clocks,
Hashim,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Monks,
The Star Department,
Warsaw,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
T.S.O.L.,
Minnie Riperton,
Judy Mowatt,
CMW,
Brick,
Thee Headcoats,
Fela Kuti,
Brass Construction,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Charles Mingus,
Spandau Ballet,
Bill Near,
John Holt,
Sexual Harrassment,
Brand Nubian,
Ronan,
The Birthday Party,
kango's stein massive,
The Pretty Things,
John Cale,
Skarface,
Basic Channel,
Smog,
Los Fastidios,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.