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 Tanzania and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the organ 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 Velvet Underground to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Brand Nubian,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Radiopuhelimet,
Underground Resistance,
KRS-One,
Agent Orange,
Icehouse,
the Association,
Stockholm Monsters,
H. Thieme,
Eden Ahbez,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Josef K,
Pagans,
Gang Starr,
DJ Sneak,
John Foxx,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eli Mardock,
The Busters,
The Golliwogs,
Matthew Halsall,
Sun Ra,
Iggy Pop,
Crooked Eye,
Thee Headcoats,
Magazine,
Cybotron,
Quadrant,
Gang Gang Dance,
Japan,
8 Eyed Spy,
Susan Cadogan,
Chrome,
Sandy B,
Pole,
The Cowsills,
Lee Hazlewood,
Guru Guru,
Dave Gahan,
Lou Reed,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Leonard Cohen,
FM Einheit,
Jawbox,
Arab on Radar,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Cure,
Eurythmics,
Pantaleimon,
Dorothy Ashby,
Basic Channel,
Bluetip,
New Order,
The Monochrome Set,
Howard Jones,
Ronnie Foster,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pantytec,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.