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 Norway and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ 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 The Monochrome Set to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lyres,
Barrington Levy,
Angry Samoans,
Roy Ayers,
Soft Machine,
Nick Fraelich,
Aaron Thompson,
The Buckinghams,
Black Bananas,
Scion,
Jandek,
Mantronix,
David Bowie,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pagans,
Flipper,
Soul Sonic Force,
Television,
The Velvet Underground,
Erykah Badu,
Gang of Four,
Fela Kuti,
Duran Duran,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Stereo Dub,
48th St. Collective,
Freddie Wadling,
The Cramps,
Barbara Tucker,
Sandy B,
Vladislav Delay,
Faust,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Fuzztones,
Surgeon,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rapeman,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Dead C,
Rhythm & Sound,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Yusef Lateef,
The Beau Brummels,
Radio Birdman,
X-Ray Spex,
This Heat,
Dawn Penn,
Average White Band,
MC5,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sonny Sharrock,
Malaria!,
Yazoo,
Robert Hood,
D'Angelo,
Fat Boys,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.