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 Peru and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 oboe 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 Buzzcocks to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Steve Hackett,
Sällskapet,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Marine Girls,
The Remains,
Judy Mowatt,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
New York Dolls,
Second Layer,
Sandy B,
Motorama,
Franke,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Residents,
Black Flag,
JFA,
Crooked Eye,
The Selecter,
Drexciya,
Traffic Nightmare,
Thee Headcoats,
Jesper Dahlback,
cv313,
Kenny Larkin,
Marmalade,
U.S. Maple,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Fugazi,
Neu!,
Wasted Youth,
Deepchord,
Schoolly D,
The Cramps,
David Bowie,
The Walker Brothers,
The Names,
Dual Sessions,
Banda Bassotti,
Sixth Finger,
Dennis Brown,
China Crisis,
T.S.O.L.,
10cc,
Mission of Burma,
Section 25,
Harmonia,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Crash Course in Science,
Gregory Isaacs,
Porter Ricks,
Das Ding,
Boz Scaggs,
Mandrill,
Minny Pops,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Altered Images,
Adolescents,
Metal Thangz,
Josef K,
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.