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 Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Robert Palmer 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 Glenn Branca to the electroclash 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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Jerry's Kids,
The Busters,
Bizarre Inc.,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Wake,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pharoah Sanders,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Charles Mingus,
The Skatalites,
Aloha Tigers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Swell Maps,
The Offenders,
48th St. Collective,
Schoolly D,
Newcleus,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Evens,
The Sisters of Mercy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Amazonics,
Quando Quango,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Shadows of Knight,
Radio Birdman,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Outsiders,
The Flesh Eaters,
Davy DMX,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Panda Bear,
Hasil Adkins,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
June Days,
Joey Negro,
Public Enemy,
David McCallum,
The Divine Comedy,
Average White Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Audionom,
Isaac Hayes,
Donny Hathaway,
Cheater Slicks,
Babytalk,
Slave,
Kurtis Blow,
Swans,
Kevin Saunderson,
Stetsasonic,
Pierre Henry,
Janne Schatter,
Moby Grape,
The Index,
Tres Demented,
The Modern Lovers,
Andrew Hill,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Section 25,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.