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 Andorra and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Marvin Gaye to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Section 25. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Godley & Creme,
Andrew Hill,
Juan Atkins,
Minnie Riperton,
Can,
Stetsasonic,
Deepchord,
Chris Corsano,
Scion,
Lou Reed,
Altered Images,
Monks,
Guru Guru,
These Immortal Souls,
Intrusion,
Sparks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Delta 5,
Spoonie Gee,
DJ Sneak,
Flash Fearless,
The Martian,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Aural Exciters,
Niagra,
Cybotron,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Joyce Sims,
Nick Fraelich,
Kerri Chandler,
Brand Nubian,
the Swans,
Connie Case,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Litter,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Joey Negro,
the Bar-Kays,
Qualms,
Patti Smith,
Bauhaus,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sun City Girls,
June of 44,
Ice-T,
Don Cherry,
Amazonics,
Mission of Burma,
Los Fastidios,
Smog,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Smoke,
Ornette Coleman,
New Order,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Zeros,
Black Flag,
Graham Central Station,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Searchers,
the Association,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.