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 Kuwait and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 chamberlin 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 Tropical Tobacco to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Glambeats Corp.,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Alton Ellis,
Harpers Bizarre,
Magma,
MC5,
Inner City,
Ronnie Foster,
Oblivians,
Freddie Wadling,
Scratch Acid,
Mark Hollis,
Wolf Eyes,
Harry Pussy,
The Wake,
Aural Exciters,
The Selecter,
John Cale,
The Monks,
Mantronix,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rapeman,
Sixth Finger,
T. Rex,
Young Marble Giants,
Con Funk Shun,
New York Dolls,
The Fall,
Blossom Toes,
Pagans,
Pulsallama,
Massinfluence,
Hot Snakes,
Robert Wyatt,
The Move,
Iggy Pop,
Glenn Branca,
The Tremeloes,
Quando Quango,
Donald Byrd,
Jeff Mills,
Bauhaus,
The Associates,
Dead Boys,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Moleskins,
Stockholm Monsters,
Warsaw,
Eurythmics,
Au Pairs,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Golliwogs,
Cecil Taylor,
Mission of Burma,
Todd Terry,
Leonard Cohen,
Crime,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
These Immortal Souls,
Ice-T,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.