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 Namibia 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Urselle to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Derrick Morgan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
The Dead C,
Ultravox,
Basic Channel,
Althea and Donna,
Nils Olav,
48th St. Collective,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kool Moe Dee,
The New Christs,
Harry Pussy,
F. McDonald,
Junior Murvin,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pantaleimon,
Crispy Ambulance,
Skriet,
Khruangbin,
the Slits,
Sonny Sharrock,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bluetip,
Sly & The Family Stone,
John Cale,
Suicide,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Drive Like Jehu,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Simply Red,
The Flesh Eaters,
Glenn Branca,
Masters at Work,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Marcia Griffiths,
kango's stein massive,
Von Mondo,
Aloha Tigers,
World's Most,
B.T. Express,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Albert Ayler,
Newcleus,
John Lydon,
Eli Mardock,
Rosa Yemen,
Cluster,
Fluxion,
Brick,
The Shadows of Knight,
Little Man,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rakim,
Funkadelic,
Oneida,
Goldenarms,
Jeff Mills,
The Blackbyrds,
Brand Nubian,
Scott Walker,
Minny Pops,
Kayak,
Erykah Badu,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.