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 Austria and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Marcia Griffiths to the crunk 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Clear Light,
the Slits,
Radiopuhelimet,
Aural Exciters,
Parry Music,
David Bowie,
The Misunderstood,
Jeff Mills,
Technova,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sound Behaviour,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ronnie Foster,
The Motions,
Saccharine Trust,
MDC,
cv313,
Public Enemy,
Monks,
David McCallum,
Crispian St. Peters,
Deepchord,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Patti Smith,
Byron Stingily,
Gang Starr,
Judy Mowatt,
The Dead C,
Joe Smooth,
The American Breed,
Eric B and Rakim,
Faust,
Gerry Rafferty,
Chris Corsano,
Masters at Work,
D'Angelo,
The Gun Club,
Man Parrish,
Inner City,
Black Bananas,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Newcleus,
Bobby Womack,
Agent Orange,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Das Ding,
Mars,
Charles Mingus,
Suicide,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Brand Nubian,
Qualms,
Soft Machine,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Dead Boys,
Flash Fearless,
Television,
In Retrospect,
Motorama,
The Victims,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.