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 Malaysia and from Calgary.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 John Cale to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
The Moleskins,
X-101,
Talk Talk,
Metal Thangz,
Camouflage,
Easy Going,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Birthday Party,
Avey Tare,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Marshall Jefferson,
Yellowson,
Juan Atkins,
Tears for Fears,
KRS-One,
Amazonics,
Michelle Simonal,
Todd Rundgren,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Magma,
Joe Finger,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Absolute Body Control,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Drexciya,
The J.B.'s,
Cheater Slicks,
Maleditus Sound,
Fat Boys,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Television Personalities,
Eddi Front,
Joensuu 1685,
Basic Channel,
Livin' Joy,
Banda Bassotti,
The Sound,
X-102,
Von Mondo,
FM Einheit,
Boz Scaggs,
David Bowie,
Scion,
The Wake,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fort Wilson Riot,
June Days,
Dorothy Ashby,
Adolescents,
Soft Machine,
The Blackbyrds,
The Offenders,
LL Cool J,
The Alarm Clocks,
L. Decosne,
Soft Cell,
Second Layer,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.