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 Brazil and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Lou Reed 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 Spoonie Gee to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Pantaleimon,
Thee Headcoats,
Das Ding,
Soul Sonic Force,
PIL,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Tremeloes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lyres,
Rites of Spring,
The Toasters,
Intrusion,
Neil Young,
Howard Jones,
Glenn Branca,
Livin' Joy,
Khruangbin,
Metal Thangz,
Funky Four + One,
Drexciya,
D'Angelo,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kayak,
Boz Scaggs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Siglo XX,
Byron Stingily,
The Invisible,
Deadbeat,
The Selecter,
Bang On A Can,
Cal Tjader,
John Lydon,
The Wake,
Duran Duran,
Mad Mike,
Sonic Youth,
The Remains,
Roger Hodgson,
Radio Birdman,
Max Romeo,
Porter Ricks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Outsiders,
Soulsonic Force,
The Mummies,
Kas Product,
Magazine,
The Dead C,
The Last Poets,
Bluetip,
Marshall Jefferson,
DJ Style,
The Five Americans,
Cameo,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.