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 Zimbabwe and from Seoul.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Gichy Dan to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 the Human League. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Arthur Verocai,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pet Shop Boys,
Robert Wyatt,
Junior Murvin,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Seeds,
X-Ray Spex,
The Birthday Party,
AZ,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rites of Spring,
The Sound,
Black Pus,
Sight & Sound,
Sugar Minott,
The Neon Judgement,
Scientists,
Aloha Tigers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Animal Collective,
Sixth Finger,
Masters at Work,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Isaac Hayes,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Dirtbombs,
Arab on Radar,
Grandmaster Flash,
David McCallum,
The Evens,
Marmalade,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cal Tjader,
Deepchord,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bob Dylan,
Chris Corsano,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Heaven 17,
Matthew Halsall,
Pantytec,
Howard Jones,
B.T. Express,
Darondo,
Wolf Eyes,
Urselle,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Alison Limerick,
Warsaw,
Mad Mike,
Terrestrial Tones,
Carl Craig,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Offenders,
The Divine Comedy,
Pere Ubu,
Aaron Thompson,
Andrew Hill,
The American Breed,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.