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 Gabon and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 sitar 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 Y Pants to the rap 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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
The Five Americans,
David Axelrod,
Gichy Dan,
The Young Rascals,
Tom Boy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Barry Ungar,
The Zeros,
Magazine,
Boredoms,
Oblivians,
Subhumans,
The Selecter,
The Searchers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Public Enemy,
Neil Young,
Morten Harket,
The Motions,
Fela Kuti,
Scrapy,
Dead Boys,
The Knickerbockers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Thompson Twins,
The Pretty Things,
Soft Cell,
Eurythmics,
Fatback Band,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Rosa Yemen,
Rapeman,
Gang Gang Dance,
Faraquet,
Minutemen,
Ultra Naté,
Groovy Waters,
Andrew Hill,
The Techniques,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pere Ubu,
Lower 48,
Television,
Ultimate Spinach,
Harmonia,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Terry Callier,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pantytec,
Stiv Bators,
DJ Style,
Minor Threat,
The Slits,
Todd Rundgren,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Parry Music,
One Last Wish,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Slackers,
Simply Red,
Ken Boothe,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.