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 Georgia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Johannesburg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 chamberlin 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the disco 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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
Section 25,
Kerri Chandler,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gabor Szabo,
Lalo Schifrin,
David McCallum,
Dead Boys,
Unrelated Segments,
ABBA,
The Vogues,
Eden Ahbez,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Hardrive,
Severed Heads,
Yusef Lateef,
Sonic Youth,
The Moleskins,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Fortunes,
H. Thieme,
Agitation Free,
Monks,
The Names,
Funkadelic,
Steve Hackett,
Animal Collective,
These Immortal Souls,
Neil Young,
Kaleidoscope,
The Birthday Party,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eve St. Jones,
the Soft Cell,
Sixth Finger,
Thompson Twins,
Wally Richardson,
Marmalade,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Germs,
Harry Pussy,
FM Einheit,
Desert Stars,
Gerry Rafferty,
Carl Craig,
Fugazi,
Vladislav Delay,
The Index,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Chris Corsano,
Todd Rundgren,
Kevin Saunderson,
June Days,
Sugar Minott,
Pulsallama,
Sound Behaviour,
Franke,
Maurizio,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.