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 Iraq and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Minor Threat to the jazz 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 The Names. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
The Trojans,
Ornette Coleman,
John Lydon,
Shuggie Otis,
Joe Smooth,
Bad Manners,
Excepter,
Marmalade,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Black Dice,
Anakelly,
Eli Mardock,
Lee Hazlewood,
Blake Baxter,
Simply Red,
Chris Corsano,
Basic Channel,
H. Thieme,
The Saints,
The Sonics,
OOIOO,
Derrick May,
Los Fastidios,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gichy Dan,
Man Parrish,
Cymande,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Parry Music,
The Gories,
Swans,
Scientists,
Yazoo,
Brand Nubian,
The American Breed,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jacques Brel,
Erykah Badu,
Ultravox,
Visage,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Talk Talk,
David Axelrod,
Joey Negro,
The Busters,
Black Flag,
Young Marble Giants,
Agitation Free,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Boz Scaggs,
The Moody Blues,
Funkadelic,
Todd Terry,
The Seeds,
Qualms,
DJ Sneak,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Dead Boys,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Alton Ellis,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.