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 Samoa and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lille.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Pharoah Sanders to the funk 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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rekid,
Radio Birdman,
Simply Red,
the Fania All-Stars,
Roxette,
Marc Almond,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lightning Bolt,
China Crisis,
Country Teasers,
Guru Guru,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Alphaville,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Neon Judgement,
The Mojo Men,
Con Funk Shun,
T.S.O.L.,
Arcadia,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Blues Magoos,
R.M.O.,
John Holt,
The Birthday Party,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sun City Girls,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Stooges,
Joey Negro,
Silicon Teens,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Chrome,
Deakin,
Crooked Eye,
Robert Görl,
Lou Reed,
Tres Demented,
Tom Boy,
Lalann,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Intrusion,
Essential Logic,
The Blackbyrds,
Soul Sonic Force,
LL Cool J,
Godley & Creme,
Camberwell Now,
Peter and Kerry,
Susan Cadogan,
Sällskapet,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.