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 Tunisia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 rhodes 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 Marine Girls to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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 Dirtbombs,
Amazonics,
Pussy Galore,
Connie Case,
Aural Exciters,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Fortunes,
Heaven 17,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
John Cale,
Avey Tare,
The Moleskins,
Bootsy Collins,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Idris Muhammad,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Cowsills,
Susan Cadogan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Quadrant,
Hardrive,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Monks,
Arcadia,
Chris & Cosey,
Metal Thangz,
Simply Red,
Delon & Dalcan,
Brick,
Agent Orange,
Rapeman,
L. Decosne,
Anakelly,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Swans,
Gang of Four,
The Names,
Eric Copeland,
The Misunderstood,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Birthday Party,
Mark Hollis,
The Offenders,
Kerri Chandler,
Qualms,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kenny Larkin,
Ken Boothe,
Pere Ubu,
Rekid,
Althea and Donna,
Lou Christie,
Porter Ricks,
Steve Hackett,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
UT,
Crash Course in Science,
Terry Callier,
Bronski Beat,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.