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 El Salvador and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Birthday Party to the rock 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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Saccharine Trust,
Zero Boys,
Pierre Henry,
Monks,
The Misunderstood,
Agitation Free,
Archie Shepp,
Marine Girls,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Boredoms,
Rosa Yemen,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Dave Gahan,
Leonard Cohen,
The Gladiators,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Subhumans,
Electric Prunes,
Eric Dolphy,
Warsaw,
Black Sheep,
Loose Ends,
Brass Construction,
T.S.O.L.,
Oblivians,
Deadbeat,
Organ,
Crispy Ambulance,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Laurel Aitken,
The Gun Club,
Arthur Verocai,
Joe Finger,
The Blackbyrds,
Pantytec,
Mandrill,
Chris Corsano,
Juan Atkins,
Godley & Creme,
China Crisis,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Stiv Bators,
The Slits,
X-Ray Spex,
Reagan Youth,
Vladislav Delay,
the Fania All-Stars,
Amon Düül,
48th St. Collective,
John Coltrane,
Angry Samoans,
Hasil Adkins,
Man Parrish,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Shoche,
Swell Maps,
Traffic Nightmare,
Suburban Knight,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Leaves,
Ice-T,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.