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 Colombia and from Salvador.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Walker Brothers to the electroclash 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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All Aswad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane 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 güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
The Grass Roots,
Crime,
Eve St. Jones,
Inner City,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sandy B,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Matthew Halsall,
Motorama,
The Index,
Country Teasers,
Royal Trux,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Juan Atkins,
Throbbing Gristle,
China Crisis,
Reuben Wilson,
Saccharine Trust,
Silicon Teens,
The Buckinghams,
Sister Nancy,
The Fuzztones,
Sex Pistols,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ituana,
Nas,
Harry Pussy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Quando Quango,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lee Hazlewood,
The New Christs,
Pulsallama,
Lucky Dragons,
Black Moon,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Last Poets,
The Sonics,
Boredoms,
Althea and Donna,
Banda Bassotti,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Barclay James Harvest,
Deadbeat,
Stereo Dub,
The Smoke,
FM Einheit,
Icehouse,
The Beau Brummels,
Qualms,
Pierre Henry,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Monochrome Set,
La Düsseldorf,
Eric Copeland,
The Slackers,
Arab on Radar,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.