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 Russia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 harpsichord 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 Crispy Ambulance to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry 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?
The Saints,
Stetsasonic,
KRS-One,
The Divine Comedy,
The Young Rascals,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Juan Atkins,
Marmalade,
Lakeside,
the Slits,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Radiohead,
10cc,
Terry Callier,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dennis Brown,
Chris Corsano,
Stockholm Monsters,
Half Japanese,
Icehouse,
China Crisis,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eric Dolphy,
The Golliwogs,
Pierre Henry,
The Vogues,
Loose Ends,
The Busters,
Von Mondo,
Suburban Knight,
Niagra,
Piero Umiliani,
The Red Krayola,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Gladiators,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Count Five,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Eurythmics,
Peter & Gordon,
Grauzone,
The Offenders,
Japan,
Jacob Miller,
Ornette Coleman,
Lou Christie,
Toni Rubio,
Kerri Chandler,
Ronnie Foster,
Neil Young,
Mr. Review,
The Dave Clark Five,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.