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 Mauritius and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Man Eating Sloth to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Stiv Bators,
Terry Callier,
Chris Corsano,
The Saints,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ken Boothe,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Scratch Acid,
The Monochrome Set,
Lightning Bolt,
Scion,
The Dave Clark Five,
Half Japanese,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wolf Eyes,
Patti Smith,
L. Decosne,
Cameo,
Kaleidoscope,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Desert Stars,
Boogie Down Productions,
Chris & Cosey,
Depeche Mode,
London Community Gospel Choir,
James White and The Blacks,
Tim Buckley,
The Durutti Column,
Sixth Finger,
Procol Harum,
MC5,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eve St. Jones,
Delta 5,
The Smoke,
Goldenarms,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Country Teasers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Brothers Johnson,
Surgeon,
Aloha Tigers,
Moss Icon,
Byron Stingily,
Talk Talk,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lou Reed,
Symarip,
Max Romeo,
Pole,
Scientists,
Motorama,
The Fire Engines,
Albert Ayler,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pussy Galore,
Bang On A Can,
The Raincoats,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.