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 Netherlands and from Salvador.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Grey Daturas to the punk 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 Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Japan 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Can,
Youth Brigade,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Smog,
The Raincoats,
Black Pus,
MC5,
Blake Baxter,
Amon Düül,
Michelle Simonal,
Pulsallama,
Be Bop Deluxe,
A Certain Ratio,
Supertramp,
Camouflage,
Roxy Music,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Brass Construction,
The Last Poets,
Sister Nancy,
Fatback Band,
Hasil Adkins,
Dawn Penn,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The New Christs,
The Victims,
Unwound,
Joy Division,
Rites of Spring,
The Remains,
Wasted Youth,
Terrestrial Tones,
Porter Ricks,
Ornette Coleman,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Faraquet,
Brick,
Q and Not U,
Wolf Eyes,
Heaven 17,
Rekid,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Fortunes,
Fat Boys,
Deakin,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Associates,
Marmalade,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Joey Negro,
T. Rex,
Minny Pops,
JFA,
LL Cool J,
F. McDonald,
The Motions,
Electric Prunes,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.