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 Mali and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the techno 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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Sister Nancy,
The Birthday Party,
Harpers Bizarre,
Y Pants,
Tropical Tobacco,
The J.B.'s,
The Raincoats,
Whodini,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kool Moe Dee,
Neil Young,
The Smoke,
Jeff Mills,
B.T. Express,
Ice-T,
Basic Channel,
the Swans,
Barbara Tucker,
Tom Boy,
The Wake,
Pussy Galore,
These Immortal Souls,
Avey Tare,
Depeche Mode,
Black Flag,
Lower 48,
Chris & Cosey,
Motorama,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Adolescents,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
CMW,
Massinfluence,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bauhaus,
Pagans,
The Tremeloes,
Drexciya,
Franke,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Eli Mardock,
Josef K,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Skarface,
The Human League,
Rosa Yemen,
The Martian,
Boz Scaggs,
The Red Krayola,
Hasil Adkins,
Letta Mbulu,
Mad Mike,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Banda Bassotti,
Bill Near,
Subhumans,
The Gun Club,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rakim,
Freddie Wadling,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.