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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 marimba 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 The Velvet Underground to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Hasil Adkins,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gerry Rafferty,
Susan Cadogan,
Grey Daturas,
Black Bananas,
The Angels of Light,
John Cale,
Pantytec,
Joy Division,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Cluster,
Oneida,
Kaleidoscope,
DNA,
Bronski Beat,
Sex Pistols,
Todd Terry,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Outsiders,
Morten Harket,
John Holt,
Warsaw,
The Cure,
Tim Buckley,
Organ,
Smog,
Buzzcocks,
Aswad,
Mr. Review,
Joey Negro,
Sam Rivers,
Funky Four + One,
Country Teasers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Young Marble Giants,
Bill Wells,
Peter and Kerry,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scratch Acid,
Con Funk Shun,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lalo Schifrin,
OOIOO,
Metal Thangz,
Goldenarms,
Harry Pussy,
Boredoms,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Marcia Griffiths,
Crime,
Sonic Youth,
Joe Smooth,
Lebanon Hanover,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tubeway Army,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Babytalk,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.