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 South Sudan and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
R.M.O.,
John Lydon,
The Star Department,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jandek,
EPMD,
Wings,
DNA,
T. Rex,
The Fire Engines,
Japan,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Moebius,
Bauhaus,
Bizarre Inc.,
Duran Duran,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
These Immortal Souls,
Crooked Eye,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
David McCallum,
Nas,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Associates,
Zero Boys,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Flash Fearless,
Scott Walker,
Rotary Connection,
The Walker Brothers,
Babytalk,
F. McDonald,
David Bowie,
Wasted Youth,
Alison Limerick,
The Pretty Things,
Don Cherry,
The Durutti Column,
Jerry's Kids,
Laurel Aitken,
Amazonics,
Ken Boothe,
Gil Scott Heron,
Negative Approach,
Kaleidoscope,
FM Einheit,
Franke,
Nico,
The Happenings,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Letta Mbulu,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bronski Beat,
Hasil Adkins,
Trumans Water,
New York Dolls,
Crime,
Nirvana,
Susan Cadogan,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.