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 Oman and from Toronto.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Youth Brigade to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Gastr Del Sol,
Oblivians,
The Moody Blues,
Essential Logic,
The Kinks,
World's Most,
Harry Pussy,
Second Layer,
Blake Baxter,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Kas Product,
The Saints,
Wire,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eli Mardock,
Bootsy Collins,
Pagans,
Public Image Ltd.,
Thee Headcoats,
Faraquet,
Underground Resistance,
Fear,
Inner City,
Grauzone,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
James White and The Blacks,
Soulsonic Force,
Barry Ungar,
E-Dancer,
Mr. Review,
Surgeon,
Davy DMX,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Patti Smith,
Sam Rivers,
Glenn Branca,
Mo-Dettes,
Icehouse,
Con Funk Shun,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Steve Hackett,
Nation of Ulysses,
Soul Sonic Force,
Arthur Verocai,
The Birthday Party,
FM Einheit,
The Associates,
Y Pants,
Aloha Tigers,
LL Cool J,
Ronan,
Gong,
Japan,
Desert Stars,
Bobby Hutcherson,
John Lydon,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.