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 Ecuador and from Toronto.
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 Lagos and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Symarip to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
Juan Atkins,
Metal Thangz,
Sam Rivers,
The Stooges,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Depeche Mode,
Lyres,
Ultra Naté,
CMW,
Matthew Halsall,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lucky Dragons,
The Cure,
Ken Boothe,
The Cowsills,
Tommy Roe,
Niagra,
The Dirtbombs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gang of Four,
Joe Finger,
New Age Steppers,
The New Christs,
The Beau Brummels,
Eric Copeland,
Crooked Eye,
Minor Threat,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scott Walker,
The Blues Magoos,
Gang Green,
a-ha,
Oneida,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Slits,
Bizarre Inc.,
Faust,
Adolescents,
Derrick May,
OOIOO,
Average White Band,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Leonard Cohen,
Scientists,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Circle Jerks,
Brick,
Lou Reed,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gang Gang Dance,
Arcadia,
Sex Pistols,
These Immortal Souls,
Peter and Kerry,
The Kinks,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Soft Cell,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.