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 Ethiopia and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Aaron Thompson to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Boz Scaggs,
Buzzcocks,
Rites of Spring,
Bob Dylan,
Aural Exciters,
Eric Copeland,
Judy Mowatt,
Cheater Slicks,
Flipper,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Monks,
Mantronix,
Fluxion,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Young Rascals,
Harmonia,
Lalo Schifrin,
Underground Resistance,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Zero Boys,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Q65,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Smiths,
Lebanon Hanover,
The American Breed,
Skarface,
Avey Tare,
The Black Dice,
Royal Trux,
John Lydon,
Harry Pussy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Techniques,
The Moleskins,
Essential Logic,
Crime,
The Smoke,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Magma,
Skaos,
Black Bananas,
Kool Moe Dee,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Five Americans,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Roger Hodgson,
Au Pairs,
Ken Boothe,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Kinks,
the Germs,
Dark Day,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Sonics,
Fat Boys,
Unwound,
Don Cherry,
Terry Callier,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.