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 Cape Verde and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 spring reverb 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 Dirtbombs to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marcia Griffiths,
Robert Görl,
Camouflage,
Tomorrow,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dennis Brown,
Iggy Pop,
Sound Behaviour,
Crooked Eye,
Henry Cow,
Roxy Music,
Alice Coltrane,
Country Teasers,
Flipper,
Outsiders,
Massinfluence,
Qualms,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Crispian St. Peters,
Black Pus,
Kenny Larkin,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Japan,
X-Ray Spex,
Lalann,
Ralphi Rosario,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Albert Ayler,
Kurtis Blow,
Byron Stingily,
Young Marble Giants,
The Martian,
Chris & Cosey,
Lebanon Hanover,
Babytalk,
Letta Mbulu,
Saccharine Trust,
Shuggie Otis,
Bronski Beat,
Faust,
Marmalade,
Mars,
Jesper Dahlback,
Groovy Waters,
The Grass Roots,
Judy Mowatt,
The Standells,
Danielle Patucci,
Bootsy Collins,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bauhaus,
Gichy Dan,
Kerri Chandler,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sparks,
Deadbeat,
Dead Boys,
Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons.
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.