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 Egypt and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the crunk 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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and a linndrum 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 chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
DJ Sneak,
Delta 5,
Toni Rubio,
Deepchord,
Stiv Bators,
The American Breed,
Tubeway Army,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Walker Brothers,
Amon Düül,
Cal Tjader,
Pylon,
The Fuzztones,
Joyce Sims,
K-Klass,
The Remains,
Tomorrow,
John Foxx,
Blancmange,
Little Man,
The Velvet Underground,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Althea and Donna,
Easy Going,
The Moody Blues,
Panda Bear,
Marmalade,
Mandrill,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
John Lydon,
Deadbeat,
Drive Like Jehu,
Aural Exciters,
Rekid,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Motorama,
Moss Icon,
The Cure,
Nation of Ulysses,
Camouflage,
LL Cool J,
Angry Samoans,
Brick,
Radiohead,
The Pop Group,
The Fire Engines,
Avey Tare,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Joensuu 1685,
Gang Gang Dance,
cv313,
Quantec,
Lightning Bolt,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Das Ding,
Tim Buckley,
Pagans,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.