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 Syria and from Madrid.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Stetsasonic to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
The Fuzztones,
The Music Machine,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bobby Sherman,
The Evens,
Hardrive,
The Raincoats,
The Walker Brothers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
K-Klass,
Sonny Sharrock,
Brothers Johnson,
Lightning Bolt,
Deadbeat,
The Trojans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Peter and Kerry,
Oblivians,
The Smoke,
Reuben Wilson,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Ultravox,
The Sonics,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Juan Atkins,
Tears for Fears,
The Mojo Men,
John Cale,
The Pop Group,
The Doors,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Hasil Adkins,
Flamin' Groovies,
Maurizio,
Intrusion,
Alphaville,
Chris Corsano,
Crispy Ambulance,
Michelle Simonal,
Brass Construction,
Sex Pistols,
Popol Vuh,
Bill Wells,
The Angels of Light,
Rekid,
Television Personalities,
Public Enemy,
The Wake,
Silicon Teens,
Whodini,
The Fall,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Porter Ricks,
Wolf Eyes,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Erasure,
Stockholm Monsters,
Little Man,
In Retrospect,
James White and The Blacks,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.