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 Djibouti and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Bananas to the funk 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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Interpol,
Grey Daturas,
Nils Olav,
Terrestrial Tones,
Index,
Grauzone,
The Raincoats,
Animal Collective,
Crooked Eye,
the Germs,
The Star Department,
Black Flag,
Junior Murvin,
Anthony Braxton,
Excepter,
Ultimate Spinach,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bob Dylan,
Carl Craig,
Nirvana,
Joe Smooth,
Lalann,
Rakim,
Cheater Slicks,
Procol Harum,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Marcia Griffiths,
Zapp,
Matthew Halsall,
Ornette Coleman,
The Five Americans,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Robert Hood,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Harpers Bizarre,
Byron Stingily,
Pagans,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Wally Richardson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ronan,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Monolake,
Lightning Bolt,
Camouflage,
Kenny Larkin,
Saccharine Trust,
Tropical Tobacco,
Urselle,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kerri Chandler,
Laurel Aitken,
Joyce Sims,
Japan,
Yellowson,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.