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 Azerbaijan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Robert Hood,
The Fuzztones,
The Electric Prunes,
Inner City,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mars,
The Human League,
DJ Style,
The Stooges,
The Count Five,
Rotary Connection,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Sonics,
Fat Boys,
Sister Nancy,
Junior Murvin,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Circle Jerks,
Zero Boys,
Jawbox,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Sound,
ABBA,
Scrapy,
Ponytail,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Anthony Braxton,
Alton Ellis,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Man Eating Sloth,
Skriet,
kango's stein massive,
World's Most,
R.M.O.,
The Offenders,
Colin Newman,
Tubeway Army,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Arab on Radar,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The New Christs,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
John Cale,
Thee Headcoats,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Shadows of Knight,
MC5,
Eric Dolphy,
James White and The Blacks,
Davy DMX,
Todd Terry,
Ohio Players,
The Alarm Clocks,
Crime,
Sex Pistols,
Simply Red,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.