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 Tanzania and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Hot Snakes to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer 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?
Black Moon,
Donald Byrd,
Surgeon,
The Wake,
Cameo,
Lou Christie,
Oneida,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Scion,
Sun City Girls,
Max Romeo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Suburban Knight,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ossler,
Slick Rick,
Minny Pops,
The Neon Judgement,
The Barracudas,
Rapeman,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mr. Review,
Kenny Larkin,
Sight & Sound,
Roxy Music,
Freddie Wadling,
The Mojo Men,
Buzzcocks,
Desert Stars,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Peter and Kerry,
Wire,
Bobby Byrd,
Amon Düül II,
Throbbing Gristle,
Thee Headcoats,
Boz Scaggs,
Tomorrow,
Crooked Eye,
Sly & The Family Stone,
A Flock of Seagulls,
David Bowie,
Bad Manners,
Gichy Dan,
Second Layer,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
R.M.O.,
Lalo Schifrin,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Monolake,
Audionom,
Lightning Bolt,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
JFA,
Sandy B,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Archie Shepp,
The Index,
Warsaw,
Nico,
Robert Wyatt,
Television Personalities,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.