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 Sri Lanka and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 guitar 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pet Shop Boys,
Neil Young,
Pagans,
Alphaville,
Livin' Joy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Vogues,
The Skatalites,
Malaria!,
The J.B.'s,
Funkadelic,
X-102,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Nico,
Yellowson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Todd Terry,
Jeff Mills,
Desert Stars,
Black Sheep,
Aural Exciters,
Letta Mbulu,
Barrington Levy,
Lower 48,
Judy Mowatt,
Deadbeat,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Make Up,
The Human League,
Davy DMX,
Young Marble Giants,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lalo Schifrin,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Graham Central Station,
The Black Dice,
Gang Gang Dance,
Procol Harum,
Matthew Bourne,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Negative Approach,
Chris Corsano,
Roger Hodgson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Theoretical Girls,
Aloha Tigers,
The Moody Blues,
Subhumans,
Spandau Ballet,
Youth Brigade,
EPMD,
The Remains,
the Germs,
Shoche,
Hasil Adkins,
James White and The Blacks,
Pharoah Sanders,
Index,
The Last Poets,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.