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 Kazakhstan and from New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxy Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Eric Copeland,
The Real Kids,
Chris & Cosey,
Brick,
The Martian,
Chrome,
Arthur Verocai,
Slick Rick,
Essential Logic,
Crispy Ambulance,
Newcleus,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Max Romeo,
Deadbeat,
Ralphi Rosario,
Black Moon,
Hasil Adkins,
John Foxx,
Flamin' Groovies,
Peter and Kerry,
Rakim,
Average White Band,
Joyce Sims,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Germs,
Dawn Penn,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Seeds,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jacob Miller,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scion,
Kevin Saunderson,
Patti Smith,
ABBA,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lou Christie,
The Zeros,
Royal Trux,
The Slackers,
Trumans Water,
Sugar Minott,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Velvet Underground,
Surgeon,
Ludus,
Sonic Youth,
Crime,
Echospace,
The Remains,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Star Department,
Model 500,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Television Personalities,
Oneida,
The Blackbyrds,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.