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 Singapore and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 oboe 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 The Gap Band to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Unrelated Segments tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-102 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
The Dead C,
Junior Murvin,
Popol Vuh,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eli Mardock,
The Electric Prunes,
Curtis Mayfield,
ABC,
UT,
Black Bananas,
Hardrive,
The Five Americans,
Charles Mingus,
R.M.O.,
John Cale,
Grey Daturas,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rekid,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Agent Orange,
Amazonics,
Desert Stars,
Man Parrish,
Connie Case,
Laurel Aitken,
Iggy Pop,
Gil Scott Heron,
Simply Red,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Pop Group,
Cecil Taylor,
Leonard Cohen,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Nik Kershaw,
Minnie Riperton,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Knickerbockers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bill Wells,
JFA,
Blake Baxter,
La Düsseldorf,
Carl Craig,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Theoretical Girls,
Nick Fraelich,
Rapeman,
Bang On A Can,
Cybotron,
John Lydon,
Slick Rick,
Shuggie Otis,
The Cure,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
David McCallum,
Chris & Cosey,
Man Eating Sloth,
Anakelly,
Black Pus,
The Blackbyrds,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.