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 Somalia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Brand Nubian to the grime 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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Black Pus,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Arthur Verocai,
Judy Mowatt,
John Coltrane,
F. McDonald,
The Grass Roots,
Dark Day,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Slick Rick,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ten City,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Doors,
Kas Product,
The Selecter,
Jandek,
Visage,
Fad Gadget,
The Victims,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mo-Dettes,
Buzzcocks,
The Fortunes,
Funkadelic,
Wolf Eyes,
Loose Ends,
In Retrospect,
Adolescents,
The Searchers,
Janne Schatter,
Roy Ayers,
UT,
Swans,
Drexciya,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marc Almond,
Bluetip,
The Knickerbockers,
Pulsallama,
Kayak,
Mantronix,
Rakim,
Lee Hazlewood,
Deepchord,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Youth Brigade,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Gap Band,
Boogie Down Productions,
EPMD,
Ituana,
The Mighty Diamonds,
ABBA,
Tim Buckley,
the Slits,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.