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 Indonesia and from Bremen.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Matthew Halsall to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Agent Orange,
Eve St. Jones,
Marmalade,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Maleditus Sound,
Pole,
The Slits,
ABC,
Altered Images,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
DJ Sneak,
Scion,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lou Christie,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Max Romeo,
The Red Krayola,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Matthew Bourne,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sixth Finger,
The Real Kids,
Japan,
The Gap Band,
David McCallum,
Nils Olav,
Index,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Warren Ellis,
Moby Grape,
The Selecter,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marvin Gaye,
Lyres,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Livin' Joy,
Interpol,
Symarip,
David Axelrod,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tommy Roe,
Matthew Halsall,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Supertramp,
Soul II Soul,
Donald Byrd,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Erykah Badu,
Magma,
X-102,
Slick Rick,
Tomorrow,
Fugazi,
The Victims,
Toni Rubio,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth.
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.