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 Libya and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Freddie Wadling to the jazz 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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Lee Hazlewood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead 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?
Ten City,
The Slackers,
Desert Stars,
Malaria!,
Yaz,
Camberwell Now,
Deadbeat,
Jesper Dahlback,
X-101,
The Fugs,
T. Rex,
Porter Ricks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Derrick Morgan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Symarip,
Fugazi,
Bizarre Inc.,
Mary Jane Girls,
Blossom Toes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Y Pants,
Eden Ahbez,
Pere Ubu,
Byron Stingily,
Saccharine Trust,
Marshall Jefferson,
Wolf Eyes,
Pagans,
Albert Ayler,
Todd Terry,
The Angels of Light,
The Monochrome Set,
Thompson Twins,
Qualms,
Maurizio,
The Smiths,
Kaleidoscope,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Oneida,
Basic Channel,
Minutemen,
Niagra,
Marc Almond,
Hashim,
Kevin Saunderson,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rapeman,
Outsiders,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Detroit Cobras,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lalann,
Liliput,
The Stooges,
Von Mondo,
Jeff Lynne,
Janne Schatter,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.