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 Macedonia and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Funkadelic to the jazz 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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
Excepter,
Cluster,
Symarip,
Warsaw,
Althea and Donna,
The Fall,
Pere Ubu,
Kerri Chandler,
Youth Brigade,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Zeros,
Mark Hollis,
The Pretty Things,
The Black Dice,
Stereo Dub,
Flipper,
Alton Ellis,
Theoretical Girls,
Anakelly,
Harmonia,
Rekid,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Dead C,
Metal Thangz,
Big Daddy Kane,
Joey Negro,
the Association,
The Names,
Zapp,
Marc Almond,
Marshall Jefferson,
Intrusion,
Terry Callier,
Quadrant,
Icehouse,
Dual Sessions,
Gong,
Gang Green,
Zero Boys,
Glenn Branca,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Marine Girls,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Sonics,
Wire,
Jeru the Damaja,
Isaac Hayes,
the Swans,
Mad Mike,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
U.S. Maple,
Ronan,
Con Funk Shun,
The Leaves,
LL Cool J,
Stiv Bators,
Slave,
Malaria!,
Masters at Work,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.