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 Nauru and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 X-101 to the dance 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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Skriet,
Joe Finger,
Blossom Toes,
The Grass Roots,
Supertramp,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Josef K,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Fortunes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nick Fraelich,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kayak,
The Alarm Clocks,
Derrick Morgan,
Pantytec,
Alton Ellis,
Liliput,
Reagan Youth,
DJ Style,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Interpol,
One Last Wish,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sister Nancy,
Patti Smith,
The Fugs,
Intrusion,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sonny Sharrock,
The J.B.'s,
The Fuzztones,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Angels of Light,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Suburban Knight,
John Foxx,
Leonard Cohen,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
OOIOO,
Ronan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Urselle,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pharoah Sanders,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marshall Jefferson,
Guru Guru,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Beau Brummels,
Agitation Free,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Popol Vuh,
Loose Ends,
Monks,
Make Up,
Los Fastidios,
Eddi Front,
Negative Approach,
New York Dolls,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.