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 France and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Eli Mardock to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Deepchord. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Banda Bassotti,
Liliput,
Minny Pops,
Spoonie Gee,
Buzzcocks,
Leonard Cohen,
Josef K,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rod Modell,
David Bowie,
Ronan,
48th St. Collective,
The Music Machine,
the Soft Cell,
Stiv Bators,
E-Dancer,
The Slits,
Sugar Minott,
Pole,
FM Einheit,
Arthur Verocai,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Massinfluence,
The Index,
Darondo,
Sex Pistols,
Cymande,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Association,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lightning Bolt,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Quantec,
Ken Boothe,
Mr. Review,
The Busters,
Altered Images,
Eric B and Rakim,
Masters at Work,
Agent Orange,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Saints,
Public Enemy,
Sällskapet,
Mo-Dettes,
Stetsasonic,
Glambeats Corp.,
Moss Icon,
Cecil Taylor,
Amon Düül,
Black Pus,
Can,
The Remains,
Swans,
Kurtis Blow,
DJ Style,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Deadbeat,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.