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 Uruguay and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mexico City.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Dave Clark Five to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Q65 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Clear Light,
June of 44,
Neil Young,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Silicon Teens,
Rhythm & Sound,
Michelle Simonal,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Modern Lovers,
The Standells,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
These Immortal Souls,
Bootsy Collins,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Unrelated Segments,
The Alarm Clocks,
Simply Red,
Pole,
Nirvana,
Absolute Body Control,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Aaron Thompson,
Can,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Aural Exciters,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Goldenarms,
Sister Nancy,
Oblivians,
Interpol,
The Blues Magoos,
Grauzone,
The Fuzztones,
a-ha,
Pagans,
Mad Mike,
Talk Talk,
Nico,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Severed Heads,
Jesper Dahlback,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Agitation Free,
Procol Harum,
This Heat,
Barrington Levy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
World's Most,
Gil Scott Heron,
Icehouse,
Fugazi,
The Invisible,
Donald Byrd,
Amazonics,
Easy Going,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pierre Henry,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.