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 Guinea-Bissau and from Shanghai.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Metal Thangz to the punk 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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pere Ubu,
Kurtis Blow,
Davy DMX,
Suburban Knight,
Malaria!,
Ornette Coleman,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Nick Fraelich,
Max Romeo,
The Music Machine,
The Kinks,
Scrapy,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gastr Del Sol,
Average White Band,
Wire,
The Names,
Funky Four + One,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lower 48,
Moby Grape,
Bobby Sherman,
Tom Boy,
DJ Style,
Ralphi Rosario,
Letta Mbulu,
Little Man,
Monks,
Janne Schatter,
Gang Green,
The American Breed,
Agitation Free,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Barry Ungar,
Traffic Nightmare,
John Lydon,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Martian,
Lakeside,
Supertramp,
Ossler,
Johnny Clarke,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
the Germs,
Desert Stars,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Juan Atkins,
Fear,
K-Klass,
The Invisible,
Procol Harum,
The Angels of Light,
Public Enemy,
Grandmaster Flash,
OOIOO,
Television Personalities,
Prince Buster,
Spoonie Gee,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.