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 Mexico and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Gun Club to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s 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 Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
This Heat,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Red Krayola,
The Gun Club,
Wire,
Shoche,
Delta 5,
The Flesh Eaters,
Danielle Patucci,
Ohio Players,
Black Sheep,
The Slits,
F. McDonald,
KRS-One,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Slackers,
Procol Harum,
Rites of Spring,
Oneida,
Yaz,
Dark Day,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ronan,
Yazoo,
David McCallum,
Cybotron,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Zapp,
Circle Jerks,
Cymande,
Organ,
Eurythmics,
Country Teasers,
Motorama,
Minor Threat,
the Slits,
The Mojo Men,
The Blues Magoos,
Marmalade,
Youth Brigade,
The Smiths,
The Modern Lovers,
In Retrospect,
Essential Logic,
John Coltrane,
The Dead C,
Whodini,
The Techniques,
Wings,
Peter and Kerry,
Accadde A,
Scion,
Crooked Eye,
Alison Limerick,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Leaves,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tom Boy,
Blossom Toes,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.