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 Rwanda and from Philadelphia.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Altered Images to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Anakelly,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Black Pus,
cv313,
The Fall,
Scan 7,
Pantaleimon,
The Selecter,
Aural Exciters,
Yellowson,
Scratch Acid,
Hashim,
Oneida,
Kurtis Blow,
Steve Hackett,
Magma,
The Victims,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mars,
Index,
The Slits,
Erykah Badu,
kango's stein massive,
The Busters,
Michelle Simonal,
Scientists,
Bobby Byrd,
Talk Talk,
Leonard Cohen,
Kenny Larkin,
John Foxx,
Gang Green,
The Remains,
Alton Ellis,
Das Ding,
Sun City Girls,
Sonic Youth,
Swell Maps,
The Tremeloes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Main Source,
Crispian St. Peters,
Robert Görl,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mad Mike,
These Immortal Souls,
The American Breed,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Hardrive,
X-102,
Harry Pussy,
Little Man,
Camberwell Now,
The Velvet Underground,
The United States of America,
Khruangbin,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bob Dylan,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.