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 South Africa and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Smog to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum 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?
Mr. Review,
Yazoo,
Sun City Girls,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Porter Ricks,
Leonard Cohen,
Angry Samoans,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Country Teasers,
The Slits,
John Holt,
Funky Four + One,
Suicide,
The Gladiators,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Niagra,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Black Sheep,
Johnny Clarke,
CMW,
The Modern Lovers,
Marine Girls,
Vainqueur,
Ken Boothe,
Pharoah Sanders,
Soft Machine,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Cure,
The Invisible,
The Sound,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Siglo XX,
Intrusion,
The Motions,
Sarah Menescal,
Public Enemy,
the Normal,
Unwound,
Morten Harket,
Kurtis Blow,
Icehouse,
Ultravox,
Bad Manners,
the Human League,
June Days,
Make Up,
Young Marble Giants,
Matthew Halsall,
Von Mondo,
Shuggie Otis,
Anthony Braxton,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Moebius,
Television Personalities,
Iggy Pop,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Masters at Work,
Kerri Chandler,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Faust,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.