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 Oman and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the grime 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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
Yellowson,
Barry Ungar,
Spandau Ballet,
The Gun Club,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Dawn Penn,
Animal Collective,
D'Angelo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
LL Cool J,
The Smoke,
The Dirtbombs,
New Order,
Arcadia,
Hoover,
Davy DMX,
Chris & Cosey,
Cal Tjader,
Michelle Simonal,
Sällskapet,
Guru Guru,
Cecil Taylor,
the Sonics,
Wally Richardson,
Scientists,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Robert Görl,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Foxx,
John Cale,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kurtis Blow,
Kaleidoscope,
T. Rex,
Radio Birdman,
Chris Corsano,
Fat Boys,
Visage,
B.T. Express,
Joensuu 1685,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Funky Four + One,
Kayak,
Man Parrish,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Hasil Adkins,
The Walker Brothers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ponytail,
Monolake,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
F. McDonald,
10cc,
Interpol,
Minor Threat,
Shuggie Otis,
The Names,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Slackers,
Cymande,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.