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 Ireland and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Hong Kong.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 Severed Heads to the disco 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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Stooges,
The New Christs,
Con Funk Shun,
Make Up,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Dead C,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Skatalites,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Amazonics,
Eli Mardock,
the Swans,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Maurizio,
The Remains,
B.T. Express,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Von Mondo,
Television Personalities,
The Victims,
Tommy Roe,
Bauhaus,
The Divine Comedy,
The Standells,
Anakelly,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jacob Miller,
Eden Ahbez,
Jawbox,
Talk Talk,
Brass Construction,
The Moody Blues,
Max Romeo,
Black Flag,
The Music Machine,
Charles Mingus,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Nas,
The Golliwogs,
The Angels of Light,
Gong,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Index,
Vladislav Delay,
Yaz,
Pere Ubu,
kango's stein massive,
Letta Mbulu,
Sexual Harrassment,
Freddie Wadling,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Amon Düül,
The Smiths,
Lou Reed,
Camberwell Now,
Chris & Cosey,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bang On A Can,
New Order,
the Normal,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.