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 Estonia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the techno 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 Residents. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
Con Funk Shun,
Johnny Osbourne,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pussy Galore,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wasted Youth,
Bill Wells,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Panda Bear,
Maurizio,
The Selecter,
Sight & Sound,
Sex Pistols,
Mary Jane Girls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lucky Dragons,
Matthew Halsall,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
John Foxx,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Flipper,
Second Layer,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Susan Cadogan,
Dead Boys,
Tres Demented,
The Trojans,
The Gladiators,
Crash Course in Science,
Scrapy,
Joe Smooth,
Fela Kuti,
Joensuu 1685,
Scratch Acid,
Minny Pops,
F. McDonald,
Oneida,
Howard Jones,
MDC,
Davy DMX,
Al Stewart,
Fear,
Tears for Fears,
Reagan Youth,
Hoover,
Jawbox,
Outsiders,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Albert Ayler,
Flamin' Groovies,
Reuben Wilson,
Guru Guru,
Pagans,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rufus Thomas,
Bang On A Can,
Smog,
Sixth Finger,
Carl Craig,
The Fuzztones,
The Neon Judgement,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.