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 Philippines and from Milan.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the grunge 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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lower 48 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Durutti Column,
Mission of Burma,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Johnny Clarke,
The Trojans,
Unrelated Segments,
Schoolly D,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sister Nancy,
Dennis Brown,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Human League,
Icehouse,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Man Eating Sloth,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The United States of America,
New Age Steppers,
Patti Smith,
Funky Four + One,
David Axelrod,
Motorama,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Tremeloes,
Procol Harum,
Harmonia,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Banda Bassotti,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Skriet,
Simply Red,
Derrick May,
Dawn Penn,
Howard Jones,
Eric Copeland,
Oblivians,
The Neon Judgement,
June of 44,
Rites of Spring,
Idris Muhammad,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scrapy,
Slick Rick,
Cecil Taylor,
Groovy Waters,
PIL,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Victims,
Avey Tare,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sixth Finger,
cv313,
Roxy Music,
Funkadelic,
Kurtis Blow,
Tears for Fears,
Sex Pistols,
Johnny Osbourne,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.