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 Cape Verde and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Minny Pops to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Traffic Nightmare,
Neu!,
Blancmange,
Davy DMX,
Anthony Braxton,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Gun Club,
Ornette Coleman,
Grauzone,
Roxy Music,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eric B and Rakim,
Alice Coltrane,
Derrick May,
Jacques Brel,
Amon Düül,
H. Thieme,
Stereo Dub,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
the Normal,
Black Moon,
Arcadia,
Juan Atkins,
Gabor Szabo,
The Cowsills,
Magma,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Fuzztones,
Clear Light,
Crime,
Brothers Johnson,
Lungfish,
The Monks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Chris & Cosey,
PIL,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Matthew Halsall,
Television,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Glambeats Corp.,
Brand Nubian,
Donny Hathaway,
Mark Hollis,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pussy Galore,
Joy Division,
The Cramps,
The Fall,
La Düsseldorf,
Aloha Tigers,
Slave,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fear,
Max Romeo,
The Five Americans,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.