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 India and from New York.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mumbai.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 LL Cool J to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
The Names,
Barbara Tucker,
Josef K,
Niagra,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kerri Chandler,
Main Source,
B.T. Express,
Derrick May,
The Wake,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Black Dice,
L. Decosne,
Hashim,
Letta Mbulu,
Ultimate Spinach,
Circle Jerks,
Thee Headcoats,
Ponytail,
Yusef Lateef,
Vladislav Delay,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ralphi Rosario,
Fatback Band,
Prince Buster,
Saccharine Trust,
Smog,
Johnny Clarke,
Severed Heads,
Bush Tetras,
Guru Guru,
Los Fastidios,
Lakeside,
Rakim,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Zapp,
The Buckinghams,
The Gories,
Simply Red,
Livin' Joy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Searchers,
Harmonia,
X-102,
Boz Scaggs,
Barry Ungar,
EPMD,
Sugar Minott,
Arcadia,
Spoonie Gee,
Tomorrow,
Television Personalities,
The Sisters of Mercy,
MDC,
Index,
Man Eating Sloth,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Zeros,
Fugazi,
Marmalade,
Amon Düül,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.