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 Tuvalu and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Public Enemy to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Motorama,
The Selecter,
Bauhaus,
Shuggie Otis,
kango's stein massive,
Gong,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Davy DMX,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Alphaville,
Maurizio,
Aloha Tigers,
Popol Vuh,
Henry Cow,
Joey Negro,
Tim Buckley,
Arab on Radar,
Saccharine Trust,
Boogie Down Productions,
The New Christs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Black Flag,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Walker Brothers,
Graham Central Station,
Angry Samoans,
Nico,
Susan Cadogan,
Q65,
Kenny Larkin,
Cluster,
Robert Wyatt,
Mr. Review,
David Bowie,
Kerrie Biddell,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Alice Coltrane,
Altered Images,
Traffic Nightmare,
Radiohead,
Brass Construction,
Marine Girls,
Audionom,
Jacob Miller,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Joe Smooth,
The Last Poets,
The Leaves,
The Electric Prunes,
Massinfluence,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Buckinghams,
Ten City,
Jerry's Kids,
Ornette Coleman,
Technova,
Minny Pops,
Leonard Cohen,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.