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 Angola and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 linndrum 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
the Soft Cell,
Make Up,
Mission of Burma,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Beau Brummels,
Suicide,
L. Decosne,
Loose Ends,
Terry Callier,
Lindisfarne,
Angry Samoans,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bobby Hutcherson,
DNA,
Iggy Pop,
Jeff Mills,
Arcadia,
Blancmange,
Jacques Brel,
Dead Boys,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Thee Headcoats,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Fire Engines,
Faraquet,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gong,
Rotary Connection,
Symarip,
Basic Channel,
Mary Jane Girls,
Desert Stars,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Henry Cow,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cheater Slicks,
Grauzone,
Prince Buster,
Duran Duran,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Searchers,
Pierre Henry,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Urselle,
Michelle Simonal,
cv313,
Delta 5,
Hashim,
The Tremeloes,
the Association,
Arab on Radar,
Gabor Szabo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Slits,
Grey Daturas,
The Electric Prunes,
Aswad,
Alison Limerick,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.