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 Jamaica and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar 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 Main Source to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL 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 guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Marcia Griffiths,
OOIOO,
Eric Copeland,
Adolescents,
Jeff Lynne,
Swell Maps,
The Walker Brothers,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Buckinghams,
Absolute Body Control,
Metal Thangz,
Vladislav Delay,
The Dave Clark Five,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ossler,
Skaos,
The Cure,
Rapeman,
Harpers Bizarre,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Reagan Youth,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
John Cale,
The Invisible,
H. Thieme,
Nico,
The Dirtbombs,
Patti Smith,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Warsaw,
Archie Shepp,
Donald Byrd,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
10cc,
Lou Reed,
Nas,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Carl Craig,
The Searchers,
Sight & Sound,
New Order,
D'Angelo,
Nick Fraelich,
John Coltrane,
Das Ding,
The Gories,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Association,
Slick Rick,
Sam Rivers,
Jeff Mills,
The Modern Lovers,
Youth Brigade,
The Fortunes,
Chris & Cosey,
Mad Mike,
Terry Callier,
The Pop Group,
Marvin Gaye,
The Sonics,
The Gap Band,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.