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 Korea North and from Spokane.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
the Normal,
Patti Smith,
Fear,
Harry Pussy,
Freddie Wadling,
June Days,
Gong,
Duran Duran,
Magazine,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Urselle,
The Misunderstood,
Morten Harket,
Grey Daturas,
Lalo Schifrin,
Country Teasers,
Jeff Lynne,
Charles Mingus,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Toni Rubio,
Crispian St. Peters,
Robert Wyatt,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Donny Hathaway,
Nico,
Radio Birdman,
Interpol,
Yaz,
Metal Thangz,
Gang of Four,
Von Mondo,
Wire,
Wally Richardson,
Goldenarms,
Suicide,
Wings,
Drexciya,
Lee Hazlewood,
Cybotron,
Wolf Eyes,
Saccharine Trust,
Skarface,
Theoretical Girls,
Hot Snakes,
Ultravox,
Schoolly D,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Shuggie Otis,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
the Fania All-Stars,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Cure,
FM Einheit,
Khruangbin,
Piero Umiliani,
Sugar Minott,
Traffic Nightmare,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Rapeman,
Matthew Halsall,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.