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 Canada and from Stockholm.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Holger Czukay 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the crunk 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pussy Galore,
Bad Manners,
The Motions,
Charles Mingus,
Sexual Harrassment,
Aloha Tigers,
T.S.O.L.,
Public Image Ltd.,
Eve St. Jones,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jeff Lynne,
Rekid,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dead Boys,
China Crisis,
Andrew Hill,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Wolf Eyes,
Brass Construction,
Barrington Levy,
Dawn Penn,
Rites of Spring,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Essential Logic,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Invisible,
The Moody Blues,
Slick Rick,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Index,
The Cure,
Saccharine Trust,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Radiopuhelimet,
Barclay James Harvest,
Anthony Braxton,
Donny Hathaway,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Trojans,
Joey Negro,
Nirvana,
Eric Dolphy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jeff Mills,
Eli Mardock,
Camouflage,
the Human League,
Altered Images,
EPMD,
Depeche Mode,
Black Sheep,
Qualms,
June Days,
The Litter,
Reagan Youth,
Tubeway Army,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fluxion,
the Fania All-Stars,
Roger Hodgson,
Urselle,
Radiohead,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.