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 Belarus and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 This Heat to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
Japan,
Rufus Thomas,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Move,
The Velvet Underground,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cal Tjader,
Stereo Dub,
The Monks,
Grey Daturas,
MDC,
Average White Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nas,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
D'Angelo,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Crispian St. Peters,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gang of Four,
David Bowie,
The New Christs,
Ornette Coleman,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sällskapet,
Joy Division,
Barclay James Harvest,
Arthur Verocai,
A Certain Ratio,
Derrick Morgan,
The Gladiators,
Soulsonic Force,
Vainqueur,
Gang Green,
Scan 7,
Yaz,
Sister Nancy,
The Barracudas,
B.T. Express,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Dawn Penn,
The Last Poets,
La Düsseldorf,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tres Demented,
The Searchers,
Max Romeo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Roy Ayers,
Talk Talk,
Television,
Warsaw,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Smog,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Don Cherry,
Anakelly,
Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme.
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.