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 Equatorial Guinea and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mummies to the crunk 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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Quando Quango,
Lakeside,
Ultra Naté,
Black Moon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Slackers,
Man Parrish,
The Seeds,
The Monks,
Subhumans,
Monks,
B.T. Express,
Joensuu 1685,
Gabor Szabo,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Jandek,
The Motions,
Junior Murvin,
Sonny Sharrock,
Joy Division,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Laurel Aitken,
Moss Icon,
The Buckinghams,
Michelle Simonal,
Sandy B,
Hot Snakes,
Scrapy,
John Coltrane,
The Young Rascals,
The Evens,
The Monochrome Set,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Fortunes,
Supertramp,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kaleidoscope,
Lee Hazlewood,
Adolescents,
Sun Ra,
Funky Four + One,
MDC,
Ultravox,
Eric B and Rakim,
Newcleus,
The Cure,
Maurizio,
Mo-Dettes,
Warsaw,
OOIOO,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Intrusion,
The Slits,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Fall,
Black Bananas,
Black Flag,
Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48.
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.