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 Tonga and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 James White and The Blacks to the dance 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
Anakelly,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sly & The Family Stone,
OOIOO,
FM Einheit,
Soul Sonic Force,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Television,
Chris Corsano,
Agent Orange,
Au Pairs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Yellowson,
Hot Snakes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Arab on Radar,
Rekid,
Alice Coltrane,
the Soft Cell,
Magazine,
The United States of America,
Gil Scott Heron,
Maleditus Sound,
Sex Pistols,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Angry Samoans,
Mantronix,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Saints,
Surgeon,
Freddie Wadling,
Amazonics,
Archie Shepp,
Eric Dolphy,
Tom Boy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Whodini,
The Birthday Party,
Howard Jones,
Wasted Youth,
The Sisters of Mercy,
MDC,
The Pop Group,
Scientists,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wire,
The Last Poets,
Minor Threat,
Rapeman,
DNA,
Eli Mardock,
Funky Four + One,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
These Immortal Souls,
Oblivians,
Ludus,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.