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 Papua New Guinea and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Bad Manners to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Index,
Mission of Burma,
Camberwell Now,
Royal Trux,
OOIOO,
Crispian St. Peters,
Soulsonic Force,
Intrusion,
Arcadia,
Joey Negro,
Subhumans,
48th St. Collective,
the Slits,
Freddie Wadling,
Vladislav Delay,
The Dead C,
Neil Young,
Gabor Szabo,
Malaria!,
Robert Hood,
Pulsallama,
Kurtis Blow,
Bill Near,
Lucky Dragons,
Al Stewart,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Cowsills,
Mark Hollis,
Nico,
The Music Machine,
The Doors,
The Five Americans,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Trumans Water,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Reuben Wilson,
World's Most,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Offenders,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pantytec,
Eurythmics,
Joe Finger,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Easy Going,
Guru Guru,
Quadrant,
Unwound,
Boz Scaggs,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Oneida,
Charles Mingus,
Donald Byrd,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Amazonics,
B.T. Express,
Zero Boys,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.