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 Montenegro and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 spring reverb 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
10cc,
the Bar-Kays,
T. Rex,
Arcadia,
Bad Manners,
Alton Ellis,
Harmonia,
Bill Wells,
Popol Vuh,
Erasure,
Scan 7,
Gong,
Simply Red,
The Slits,
The Trojans,
Khruangbin,
X-102,
Television Personalities,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
John Coltrane,
The Searchers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
K-Klass,
Newcleus,
Interpol,
Bootsy Collins,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
These Immortal Souls,
the Association,
New Order,
The Vogues,
Arab on Radar,
Jacob Miller,
Easy Going,
David Axelrod,
The Seeds,
Matthew Halsall,
AZ,
Mark Hollis,
The Birthday Party,
Gregory Isaacs,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Buzzcocks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Swell Maps,
Ultimate Spinach,
Make Up,
Stereo Dub,
The Walker Brothers,
The United States of America,
Ultravox,
Letta Mbulu,
Maleditus Sound,
Colin Newman,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fluxion,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ohio Players,
Joey Negro,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.