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 Suriname and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 snare 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 Scan 7 to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Accadde A. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
The Mummies,
Al Stewart,
Eric Dolphy,
Sällskapet,
Gabor Szabo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Slick Rick,
the Slits,
Moebius,
Warren Ellis,
Throbbing Gristle,
La Düsseldorf,
Jeff Mills,
Bootsy Collins,
Intrusion,
Gregory Isaacs,
Dark Day,
Avey Tare,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Mojo Men,
Neil Young,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Scion,
Gang Starr,
Wings,
DJ Style,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Supertramp,
Ronnie Foster,
In Retrospect,
The Associates,
Byron Stingily,
The Count Five,
The Moody Blues,
Skriet,
Minnie Riperton,
The Smoke,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sight & Sound,
Liliput,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sexual Harrassment,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Stiv Bators,
Yusef Lateef,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sound Behaviour,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Swell Maps,
The Invisible,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lou Reed,
Zero Boys,
The Blues Magoos,
Deadbeat,
The Star Department,
Radiopuhelimet,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.