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 El Salvador and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare 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 Man Parrish to the grunge 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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantaleimon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
The Vogues,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Television,
OOIOO,
Barbara Tucker,
The Move,
10cc,
Monks,
David McCallum,
cv313,
FM Einheit,
The Sonics,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Supertramp,
Talk Talk,
Sonic Youth,
Deakin,
Patti Smith,
The Smiths,
Sun City Girls,
Nirvana,
Althea and Donna,
The Raincoats,
Goldenarms,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Cal Tjader,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dual Sessions,
the Swans,
Terrestrial Tones,
Donald Byrd,
Visage,
The American Breed,
Laurel Aitken,
Nils Olav,
Pierre Henry,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Toasters,
The New Christs,
Echospace,
The Monks,
the Association,
Yellowson,
The Young Rascals,
Interpol,
Hasil Adkins,
Fear,
Sam Rivers,
Subhumans,
Matthew Halsall,
Y Pants,
Letta Mbulu,
Fela Kuti,
Underground Resistance,
The Real Kids,
Lucky Dragons,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.