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 Korea North and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Mary Jane Girls to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Ludus,
Gang Starr,
Man Parrish,
Soul Sonic Force,
Camouflage,
Panda Bear,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Divine Comedy,
The Gap Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Television,
Dead Boys,
U.S. Maple,
X-Ray Spex,
Archie Shepp,
Kayak,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Slave,
The Last Poets,
Theoretical Girls,
Oblivians,
Second Layer,
Byron Stingily,
Maleditus Sound,
The Stooges,
kango's stein massive,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sarah Menescal,
Severed Heads,
Roger Hodgson,
Los Fastidios,
The Star Department,
Trumans Water,
Big Daddy Kane,
Funkadelic,
Adolescents,
the Human League,
Blake Baxter,
Livin' Joy,
Derrick May,
World's Most,
Simply Red,
New Order,
the Soft Cell,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fad Gadget,
The Saints,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kaleidoscope,
Parry Music,
The Happenings,
James White and The Blacks,
Shuggie Otis,
Lakeside,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Reagan Youth,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Delta 5,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gong,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.