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 Costa Rica and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manila.
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 linndrum 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the punk 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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gastr Del Sol,
Prince Buster,
Bluetip,
Q and Not U,
Pussy Galore,
Lalo Schifrin,
Wally Richardson,
Cymande,
June Days,
Pole,
DJ Style,
Liliput,
Gabor Szabo,
Porter Ricks,
Roy Ayers,
Lindisfarne,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Pretty Things,
Neil Young,
Barry Ungar,
Scott Walker,
The Vogues,
Sight & Sound,
Eli Mardock,
The Stooges,
China Crisis,
This Heat,
Mad Mike,
Wings,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Mr. Review,
Funkadelic,
Lakeside,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Young Rascals,
Sugar Minott,
Soft Cell,
Junior Murvin,
Ultravox,
Lightning Bolt,
Pantaleimon,
Rekid,
The Victims,
The Fire Engines,
Blancmange,
the Slits,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sex Pistols,
the Association,
Marc Almond,
Quadrant,
The Skatalites,
Juan Atkins,
U.S. Maple,
Kevin Saunderson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fear,
Khruangbin,
New Order,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Gun Club,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.