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 Iceland and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Salvador.
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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bang On A Can to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo 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 an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Gang of Four,
The Fire Engines,
The Smoke,
Simply Red,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Victims,
Neu!,
Depeche Mode,
Severed Heads,
The Last Poets,
Sun City Girls,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kerri Chandler,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Laurel Aitken,
Delta 5,
Buzzcocks,
Faraquet,
The J.B.'s,
Dead Boys,
Lou Christie,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kevin Saunderson,
Siglo XX,
Judy Mowatt,
Soft Cell,
Hasil Adkins,
Scott Walker,
The Toasters,
The Slits,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Ornette Coleman,
Prince Buster,
Letta Mbulu,
Roxette,
DNA,
Cal Tjader,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Human League,
Derrick May,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
In Retrospect,
Yazoo,
Blancmange,
Radio Birdman,
Whodini,
The Stooges,
The Seeds,
Kenny Larkin,
the Human League,
Moby Grape,
Nils Olav,
Joensuu 1685,
UT,
Minor Threat,
Joy Division,
Nas,
Trumans Water,
The Angels of Light,
Delon & Dalcan,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.