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 Bangladesh and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Flamin' Groovies to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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?
Erykah Badu,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jacob Miller,
Dead Boys,
X-102,
The Stooges,
James White and The Blacks,
The Misunderstood,
Quando Quango,
The Walker Brothers,
Unrelated Segments,
Guru Guru,
Rakim,
Tears for Fears,
Alton Ellis,
Sarah Menescal,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Blake Baxter,
Joensuu 1685,
Suicide,
Pole,
Index,
Country Teasers,
The Star Department,
Blancmange,
Albert Ayler,
Franke,
Camouflage,
Motorama,
Deepchord,
The Dead C,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Names,
Swell Maps,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Maurizio,
Ronan,
Sound Behaviour,
Mission of Burma,
Angry Samoans,
Jesper Dahlback,
Khruangbin,
Wire,
Aural Exciters,
Carl Craig,
Byron Stingily,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Swans,
The Motions,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Letta Mbulu,
Dawn Penn,
Funky Four + One,
The Skatalites,
Panda Bear,
The Fall,
Bobby Sherman,
The Selecter,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Wake,
Public Enemy,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.