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 Solomon Islands and from Beijing.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bremen.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Monks,
Pagans,
Althea and Donna,
Shoche,
Skaos,
Nas,
Japan,
Cheater Slicks,
The Barracudas,
Yellowson,
Ten City,
The Fuzztones,
Con Funk Shun,
Animal Collective,
Grey Daturas,
Slave,
The Remains,
Bronski Beat,
L. Decosne,
The Litter,
Mary Jane Girls,
Electric Prunes,
The United States of America,
Rites of Spring,
Yazoo,
Barry Ungar,
Sonny Sharrock,
Swans,
Gong,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Loose Ends,
Traffic Nightmare,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Alice Coltrane,
Dead Boys,
Roxy Music,
Sun City Girls,
DNA,
The American Breed,
Soft Cell,
The Modern Lovers,
The Neon Judgement,
the Human League,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Procol Harum,
Lower 48,
Ronnie Foster,
Mad Mike,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Surgeon,
The Sound,
Soul II Soul,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Wings,
Wolf Eyes,
Wire,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.