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 Jordan and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 David Axelrod to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Bauhaus,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dorothy Ashby,
Smog,
Pagans,
the Slits,
Q and Not U,
Marmalade,
Steve Hackett,
Subhumans,
The Fall,
Fluxion,
Fatback Band,
Nas,
Tears for Fears,
Laurel Aitken,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Vogues,
Johnny Clarke,
The Knickerbockers,
Delta 5,
Bang On A Can,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Black Pus,
Andrew Hill,
Symarip,
Ten City,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Happenings,
Sex Pistols,
Robert Wyatt,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Massinfluence,
Howard Jones,
Ornette Coleman,
Faraquet,
Thee Headcoats,
Grandmaster Flash,
EPMD,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Dead C,
LL Cool J,
The Slackers,
Inner City,
Gang of Four,
Jeru the Damaja,
Hashim,
In Retrospect,
Second Layer,
The Fortunes,
Letta Mbulu,
Fear,
UT,
Pulsallama,
Freddie Wadling,
Ohio Players,
The Saints,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pole,
Donny Hathaway,
Agent Orange,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.