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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Tom Verlaine 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 The Misunderstood to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Ice-T,
8 Eyed Spy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pole,
The Raincoats,
Smog,
John Lydon,
The Fortunes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Seeds,
The Divine Comedy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lindisfarne,
Black Flag,
Arab on Radar,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jeff Mills,
Suburban Knight,
Circle Jerks,
The Beau Brummels,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Masters at Work,
Danielle Patucci,
Nation of Ulysses,
Steve Hackett,
Cecil Taylor,
The Doors,
Peter and Kerry,
Nas,
B.T. Express,
The Saints,
Joy Division,
Terrestrial Tones,
Girls At Our Best!,
Magma,
Echospace,
Warsaw,
Drexciya,
Sound Behaviour,
Fatback Band,
Crash Course in Science,
Donny Hathaway,
R.M.O.,
Anakelly,
Faraquet,
Nico,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Sonics,
Funky Four + One,
Rufus Thomas,
Juan Atkins,
The Move,
Kurtis Blow,
Quadrant,
Motorama,
Black Moon,
Barry Ungar,
Scott Walker,
The Pretty Things,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.