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 San Marino and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 clarinet 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 The Neon Judgement to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Agent Orange,
Scientists,
Bob Dylan,
Althea and Donna,
The Fugs,
Leonard Cohen,
Morten Harket,
Graham Central Station,
Idris Muhammad,
World's Most,
Arab on Radar,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fear,
Davy DMX,
Aswad,
The Beau Brummels,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Von Mondo,
The Modern Lovers,
Prince Buster,
Skriet,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Niagra,
Brass Construction,
The Cramps,
Blake Baxter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Marc Almond,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Los Fastidios,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Radio Birdman,
Steve Hackett,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ten City,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
F. McDonald,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Marshall Jefferson,
D'Angelo,
The Raincoats,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ken Boothe,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lebanon Hanover,
Youth Brigade,
Warsaw,
Terry Callier,
Porter Ricks,
The Black Dice,
Blancmange,
Delta 5,
Tres Demented,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cameo,
Derrick May,
The Young Rascals,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.