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 Botswana and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 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 These Immortal Souls to the crunk 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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Theoretical Girls,
Max Romeo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Residents,
Talk Talk,
Skarface,
Lou Reed,
Outsiders,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Isaac Hayes,
the Human League,
Hasil Adkins,
Franke,
Dead Boys,
Eyeless In Gaza,
These Immortal Souls,
Hardrive,
Swans,
Junior Murvin,
Q65,
Eddi Front,
Drive Like Jehu,
Mandrill,
Tommy Roe,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
New Age Steppers,
The Happenings,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Fuzztones,
Lakeside,
Black Bananas,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Electric Prunes,
Sparks,
F. McDonald,
Man Parrish,
Rekid,
The Slackers,
David McCallum,
Erykah Badu,
Trumans Water,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Saccharine Trust,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Darondo,
The Kinks,
The Moody Blues,
U.S. Maple,
The Gun Club,
Bauhaus,
Sight & Sound,
Lee Hazlewood,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Y Pants,
Gang Green,
The Stooges,
Terry Callier,
Make Up,
The United States of America,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.