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 Poland and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Crocodile.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Shadows of Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
The Moleskins,
John Cale,
Byron Stingily,
Joy Division,
The Trojans,
The Red Krayola,
Reuben Wilson,
B.T. Express,
Archie Shepp,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Morten Harket,
The Blues Magoos,
Bluetip,
The Mojo Men,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Shadows of Knight,
Man Parrish,
Amon Düül II,
Alton Ellis,
Mark Hollis,
Ultra Naté,
David Bowie,
The Gladiators,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bauhaus,
Rapeman,
Hasil Adkins,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Don Cherry,
Outsiders,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Cymande,
Rites of Spring,
The Angels of Light,
Jacques Brel,
Dawn Penn,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Laurel Aitken,
Negative Approach,
Arab on Radar,
Supertramp,
Gichy Dan,
Section 25,
Cluster,
The Martian,
Joyce Sims,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Searchers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Junior Murvin,
Harry Pussy,
Roxy Music,
Ohio Players,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Black Bananas,
KRS-One,
Guru Guru,
the Sonics,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.