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 Yemen and from Bologna.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba 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 Jesper Dahlback to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Wake. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Radio Birdman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Porter Ricks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Talk Talk,
Television Personalities,
Lou Reed,
Glenn Branca,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Brick,
Jeru the Damaja,
Brass Construction,
The Tremeloes,
Absolute Body Control,
Aswad,
Hasil Adkins,
LL Cool J,
Grey Daturas,
Amon Düül II,
48th St. Collective,
The Count Five,
The Sound,
Matthew Halsall,
Camberwell Now,
The Mojo Men,
The Remains,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
One Last Wish,
Sam Rivers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Cheater Slicks,
Fugazi,
Unrelated Segments,
Jeff Lynne,
Bronski Beat,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Barclay James Harvest,
Danielle Patucci,
Throbbing Gristle,
Trumans Water,
Mission of Burma,
The Dead C,
The Associates,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mark Hollis,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Royal Trux,
Visage,
Henry Cow,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Supertramp,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
D'Angelo,
The Mummies,
John Holt,
David Axelrod,
The Electric Prunes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.