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 Philippines and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the techno 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Visage,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Curtis Mayfield,
Groovy Waters,
Schoolly D,
Hot Snakes,
Cheater Slicks,
The Misunderstood,
Livin' Joy,
The Searchers,
Yazoo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sarah Menescal,
Aaron Thompson,
Jandek,
Bobby Byrd,
New Order,
Ralphi Rosario,
Byron Stingily,
Young Marble Giants,
The Pretty Things,
Echospace,
The Count Five,
Soft Machine,
The Victims,
Kool Moe Dee,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Piero Umiliani,
Todd Terry,
Mo-Dettes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Unwound,
The Cure,
Derrick Morgan,
The Alarm Clocks,
EPMD,
Eli Mardock,
Ten City,
the Normal,
Lakeside,
The Offenders,
Glenn Branca,
Scratch Acid,
Barrington Levy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rod Modell,
Q65,
Yaz,
Boogie Down Productions,
Television,
The Cowsills,
Rotary Connection,
Sexual Harrassment,
Suburban Knight,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Minnie Riperton,
Eden Ahbez,
Roxette,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.