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 Australia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Houston.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Offenders to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Johnny Clarke,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Organ,
The Sonics,
the Normal,
Amon Düül II,
Basic Channel,
Newcleus,
Pussy Galore,
Kayak,
New Order,
Kenny Larkin,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mr. Review,
Lalo Schifrin,
Colin Newman,
the Sonics,
Thee Headcoats,
T. Rex,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wire,
Ultimate Spinach,
T.S.O.L.,
Letta Mbulu,
Ultravox,
Bang On A Can,
Hasil Adkins,
Cymande,
The Divine Comedy,
Moss Icon,
Funkadelic,
The Count Five,
Jeru the Damaja,
Black Bananas,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Franke,
Theoretical Girls,
Babytalk,
Tomorrow,
Barrington Levy,
Q65,
The Monks,
Cameo,
The Fuzztones,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
CMW,
Skriet,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Althea and Donna,
Wally Richardson,
The Black Dice,
Scott Walker,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Metal Thangz,
Ituana,
James White and The Blacks,
Dennis Brown,
Tears for Fears,
Japan,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.