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 Congo and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 The Count Five to the grunge 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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
A Certain Ratio,
Los Fastidios,
Kas Product,
Lakeside,
Roger Hodgson,
ABC,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fear,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Selecter,
Soft Machine,
Byron Stingily,
Japan,
June Days,
Cheater Slicks,
Alton Ellis,
Laurel Aitken,
David Bowie,
Pussy Galore,
The Fortunes,
Barrington Levy,
Rakim,
Gang Starr,
The J.B.'s,
U.S. Maple,
Josef K,
Andrew Hill,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Association,
Hardrive,
New York Dolls,
The Fugs,
Freddie Wadling,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tim Buckley,
Alphaville,
Morten Harket,
Chris Corsano,
Moss Icon,
Oneida,
Qualms,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Cramps,
The Slits,
Joey Negro,
The Blackbyrds,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
MC5,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Steve Hackett,
Eric Copeland,
Mars,
Shuggie Otis,
Suicide,
OOIOO,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Fire Engines,
The Techniques,
Interpol,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.