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 Moldova and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jandek to the techno 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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Clear Light,
Howard Jones,
Suicide,
Model 500,
Donny Hathaway,
The Litter,
Joe Finger,
Grandmaster Flash,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Vainqueur,
The Alarm Clocks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Cameo,
Babytalk,
Swell Maps,
Buzzcocks,
Scion,
La Düsseldorf,
Von Mondo,
Flipper,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Names,
10cc,
the Association,
John Coltrane,
LL Cool J,
Heaven 17,
Bang On A Can,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pantytec,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dave Gahan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Roxette,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Music Machine,
CMW,
John Lydon,
Pylon,
Bauhaus,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Tremeloes,
The Fuzztones,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Vogues,
Surgeon,
Harmonia,
Aswad,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Blues Magoos,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Hot Snakes,
Cluster,
Desert Stars,
Sarah Menescal,
Fort Wilson Riot,
New Order,
Scott Walker,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.