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 Mexico and from Cairo.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lakeside to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
the Human League,
Lower 48,
Barry Ungar,
Guru Guru,
Chrome,
Black Pus,
Soul II Soul,
Sparks,
David McCallum,
Saccharine Trust,
Zero Boys,
Flash Fearless,
Bad Manners,
The Grass Roots,
Ronan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Angels of Light,
Silicon Teens,
Little Man,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sarah Menescal,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fela Kuti,
Skriet,
Niagra,
Gang Green,
Bizarre Inc.,
Alphaville,
Scan 7,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Brand Nubian,
Angry Samoans,
Nick Fraelich,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pantaleimon,
The Divine Comedy,
The Black Dice,
Dennis Brown,
Pagans,
Oblivians,
Robert Hood,
Black Sheep,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Newcleus,
Dead Boys,
Matthew Halsall,
Wings,
Judy Mowatt,
Michelle Simonal,
T. Rex,
Malaria!,
Maleditus Sound,
The Selecter,
The Stooges,
Ossler,
Bobby Sherman,
Bluetip,
Throbbing Gristle,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.