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 Korea North and from Portland.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Black Moon to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Janne Schatter,
Surgeon,
Qualms,
Gabor Szabo,
The Martian,
Bush Tetras,
Severed Heads,
8 Eyed Spy,
The American Breed,
Joyce Sims,
Grauzone,
Sun City Girls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Skriet,
Pharoah Sanders,
Eden Ahbez,
Unrelated Segments,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Last Poets,
In Retrospect,
Mo-Dettes,
Mantronix,
Banda Bassotti,
DJ Sneak,
Skaos,
Kayak,
Little Man,
Johnny Clarke,
Pole,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Kinks,
ABC,
Au Pairs,
Barry Ungar,
Johnny Osbourne,
Deadbeat,
Pulsallama,
Television Personalities,
The Velvet Underground,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Quadrant,
The Trojans,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sugar Minott,
Jawbox,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ice-T,
EPMD,
Pussy Galore,
Fluxion,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Saints,
David Axelrod,
X-Ray Spex,
Radio Birdman,
Swans,
Public Enemy,
Freddie Wadling,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.