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 Lesotho and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 DNA to the funk 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 The Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Görl,
Archie Shepp,
Black Bananas,
Agitation Free,
Country Teasers,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sandy B,
Brick,
World's Most,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bobby Sherman,
Juan Atkins,
Mo-Dettes,
These Immortal Souls,
The Seeds,
The Searchers,
The Cure,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gil Scott Heron,
Roy Ayers,
Aaron Thompson,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tears for Fears,
the Germs,
T. Rex,
The Barracudas,
The J.B.'s,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Fortunes,
Yusef Lateef,
Lee Hazlewood,
Hoover,
Rod Modell,
Kerri Chandler,
Davy DMX,
Circle Jerks,
The American Breed,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Charles Mingus,
Chris Corsano,
Peter and Kerry,
PIL,
Surgeon,
T.S.O.L.,
Lyres,
Dead Boys,
The Golliwogs,
Patti Smith,
Mark Hollis,
The Gun Club,
Popol Vuh,
Isaac Hayes,
Skriet,
The Techniques,
The Human League,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.