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 South Africa and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 Delhi and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Television to the disco 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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Joe Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Names,
The Misunderstood,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Last Poets,
Ronan,
The Pop Group,
Lalann,
Unrelated Segments,
Tears for Fears,
Hardrive,
Vladislav Delay,
the Normal,
Faust,
Franke,
Yaz,
Todd Terry,
Janne Schatter,
Lower 48,
Nik Kershaw,
Sight & Sound,
Pulsallama,
Adolescents,
Wolf Eyes,
Basic Channel,
Aural Exciters,
Subhumans,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Litter,
Stiv Bators,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Joy Division,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tres Demented,
Eric Copeland,
Rotary Connection,
Faraquet,
Goldenarms,
Crooked Eye,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ten City,
Youth Brigade,
Marine Girls,
Byron Stingily,
Jeff Mills,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Buzzcocks,
Cameo,
Gang Starr,
Circle Jerks,
Swell Maps,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Carl Craig,
Peter & Gordon,
Pagans,
La Düsseldorf,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Chrome,
Man Parrish,
Roy Ayers,
Ken Boothe,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.