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 Bahamas and from Cairo.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Warsaw to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eli Mardock,
Throbbing Gristle,
Main Source,
Can,
Minor Threat,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Quando Quango,
Nils Olav,
The Toasters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Howard Jones,
Laurel Aitken,
Erykah Badu,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nick Fraelich,
Soft Machine,
Deepchord,
Kaleidoscope,
Smog,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Charles Mingus,
Deakin,
Jesper Dahlback,
Peter and Kerry,
Malaria!,
Tim Buckley,
Lower 48,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Reuben Wilson,
Oneida,
Barbara Tucker,
Lou Reed,
New Age Steppers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Joey Negro,
John Lydon,
Flipper,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Niagra,
Tears for Fears,
Public Image Ltd.,
Moebius,
Ornette Coleman,
Pantaleimon,
The Sonics,
Zero Boys,
Tres Demented,
Gregory Isaacs,
Surgeon,
Urselle,
The Barracudas,
Letta Mbulu,
The Pop Group,
Nas,
Jandek,
The Walker Brothers,
The Cure,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Knickerbockers,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.