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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the funk 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 Massinfluence. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
The Pop Group,
The Dave Clark Five,
Whodini,
Wings,
Reuben Wilson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fad Gadget,
Symarip,
Aswad,
Funkadelic,
Wire,
June Days,
Interpol,
Pharoah Sanders,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Swans,
Kurtis Blow,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sister Nancy,
Lyres,
The Dead C,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Johnny Clarke,
The American Breed,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Fire Engines,
Kenny Larkin,
Harry Pussy,
Electric Prunes,
Robert Görl,
Tommy Roe,
Sex Pistols,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Invisible,
Monks,
The Fortunes,
New Order,
Tom Boy,
Main Source,
The Velvet Underground,
Goldenarms,
Sixth Finger,
Fatback Band,
Barrington Levy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Minny Pops,
Intrusion,
Brass Construction,
Freddie Wadling,
The Victims,
cv313,
Rufus Thomas,
Chrome,
Stereo Dub,
the Germs,
OOIOO,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Association,
the Bar-Kays,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.