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 Iceland and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 Columbus and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Fugazi to the crunk 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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
Underground Resistance,
Arcadia,
The Dirtbombs,
Sparks,
Mo-Dettes,
Niagra,
Terrestrial Tones,
These Immortal Souls,
Mad Mike,
Banda Bassotti,
Connie Case,
Anakelly,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pussy Galore,
The Angels of Light,
Alphaville,
Laurel Aitken,
Avey Tare,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Nils Olav,
Bronski Beat,
Marine Girls,
Chrome,
the Sonics,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mr. Review,
Qualms,
Morten Harket,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Minnie Riperton,
Sixth Finger,
Wolf Eyes,
Chris & Cosey,
Circle Jerks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Suburban Knight,
Procol Harum,
the Normal,
Slave,
Flash Fearless,
Aaron Thompson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Maurizio,
The Electric Prunes,
World's Most,
The Fire Engines,
Junior Murvin,
Faust,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Modern Lovers,
Mary Jane Girls,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Birthday Party,
Sällskapet,
Zero Boys,
The Mighty Diamonds,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Letta Mbulu,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.