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 New Zealand and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 arpeggiator 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 Loose Ends to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Move. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Porter Ricks,
Crooked Eye,
Negative Approach,
Whodini,
Moebius,
Goldenarms,
Glambeats Corp.,
Spandau Ballet,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Carl Craig,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Invisible,
Mandrill,
Little Man,
Television Personalities,
The Buckinghams,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Delon & Dalcan,
8 Eyed Spy,
Smog,
Brick,
Warren Ellis,
The Alarm Clocks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Subhumans,
Danielle Patucci,
The Residents,
Metal Thangz,
Pantytec,
X-Ray Spex,
Infiniti,
Gang Gang Dance,
Dead Boys,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bad Manners,
The J.B.'s,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gang of Four,
X-101,
The Mojo Men,
Marine Girls,
Ten City,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joy Division,
Siglo XX,
Don Cherry,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Davy DMX,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bronski Beat,
Duran Duran,
Donald Byrd,
The Last Poets,
E-Dancer,
Camouflage,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bill Near,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.