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 Eritrea and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Frankie Knuckles to the grime 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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
Whodini,
Hashim,
the Fania All-Stars,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Altered Images,
The Red Krayola,
Isaac Hayes,
A Certain Ratio,
Franke,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Shuggie Otis,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Young Rascals,
B.T. Express,
EPMD,
Jeff Mills,
Robert Görl,
The Leaves,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Smog,
Television Personalities,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Absolute Body Control,
Eurythmics,
The Names,
The Gories,
Neu!,
The J.B.'s,
Eric Copeland,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eric Dolphy,
Trumans Water,
Popol Vuh,
Cecil Taylor,
Crash Course in Science,
Essential Logic,
kango's stein massive,
Clear Light,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pagans,
Terrestrial Tones,
New York Dolls,
John Lydon,
ABBA,
One Last Wish,
The Invisible,
Outsiders,
Electric Prunes,
The Dirtbombs,
Soulsonic Force,
Agitation Free,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Fortunes,
The Cowsills,
Graham Central Station,
Audionom,
The Evens,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Echospace,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.