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 Portugal and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 arpeggiator 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 Rekid to the techno 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 Tom Boy. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Yaz,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Curtis Mayfield,
Wings,
Von Mondo,
Underground Resistance,
Nick Fraelich,
Maurizio,
Yellowson,
Simply Red,
X-102,
The Birthday Party,
Ituana,
Brick,
Charles Mingus,
Bad Manners,
Stockholm Monsters,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Sheep,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bob Dylan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pere Ubu,
Darondo,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fuzztones,
Anthony Braxton,
Marmalade,
Public Image Ltd.,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Minny Pops,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pylon,
Dawn Penn,
The Remains,
Franke,
Eddi Front,
Dark Day,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nils Olav,
Delta 5,
Traffic Nightmare,
Arab on Radar,
Surgeon,
Bauhaus,
Connie Case,
Desert Stars,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Glenn Branca,
Black Bananas,
Lungfish,
Arcadia,
Porter Ricks,
The Leaves,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
cv313,
Tubeway Army,
The Kinks,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.