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 Mexico and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 John Foxx to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bronski Beat. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Leonard Cohen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Albert Ayler,
DNA,
Tom Boy,
Cheater Slicks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Metal Thangz,
The Happenings,
The Neon Judgement,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Television,
Sex Pistols,
Surgeon,
Interpol,
Joe Smooth,
Saccharine Trust,
Cal Tjader,
The Dead C,
The Music Machine,
cv313,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
PIL,
David Bowie,
Harpers Bizarre,
Masters at Work,
Neu!,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Selecter,
Boz Scaggs,
Soft Machine,
Whodini,
Second Layer,
Adolescents,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Remains,
Flipper,
Q and Not U,
Kaleidoscope,
Bob Dylan,
Swans,
Desert Stars,
Shoche,
Pole,
Jandek,
Circle Jerks,
Juan Atkins,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Toasters,
The Misunderstood,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Motorama,
Letta Mbulu,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eric Dolphy,
China Crisis,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bang On A Can,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lower 48,
The Names,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
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.