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 Belgium and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Seoul.
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 oboe 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 The Count Five to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Sun Ra,
DJ Sneak,
Howard Jones,
Lower 48,
A Certain Ratio,
Television,
The Blackbyrds,
The United States of America,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Angels of Light,
Dorothy Ashby,
David Bowie,
Q65,
Flash Fearless,
Freddie Wadling,
Mr. Review,
Tommy Roe,
Das Ding,
Godley & Creme,
Gil Scott Heron,
Soft Cell,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Model 500,
Swell Maps,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dave Gahan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Procol Harum,
Los Fastidios,
Colin Newman,
Danielle Patucci,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Reagan Youth,
Curtis Mayfield,
Max Romeo,
The Remains,
The Doobie Brothers,
Charles Mingus,
Oneida,
Harry Pussy,
The Real Kids,
Barry Ungar,
Patti Smith,
Ken Boothe,
Thee Headcoats,
Blancmange,
Symarip,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Byron Stingily,
Groovy Waters,
R.M.O.,
Alice Coltrane,
The Detroit Cobras,
Absolute Body Control,
The Golliwogs,
Sonny Sharrock,
Letta Mbulu,
Main Source,
Kaleidoscope,
Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX.
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.