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 Afghanistan and from Philadelphia.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 Whodini to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Cameo,
Yellowson,
James White and The Blacks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Howard Jones,
Archie Shepp,
The United States of America,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Intrusion,
Bush Tetras,
The Alarm Clocks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jeff Lynne,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jesper Dahlback,
Deadbeat,
Nirvana,
Neil Young,
The Moody Blues,
Warren Ellis,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Kinks,
Urselle,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Tubeway Army,
The Fuzztones,
Todd Terry,
Excepter,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sight & Sound,
Albert Ayler,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Erasure,
Pharoah Sanders,
Echospace,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Eric Copeland,
In Retrospect,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Anthony Braxton,
The Fugs,
Crash Course in Science,
Minutemen,
Gang of Four,
Underground Resistance,
Au Pairs,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Grauzone,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cheater Slicks,
Mo-Dettes,
The Associates,
Jeru the Damaja,
Janne Schatter,
Eric Dolphy,
Jandek,
Audionom,
The Searchers,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.