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 Brunei and from Shanghai.
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 Milan and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Jerry's Kids to the dance 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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
X-101,
Jerry's Kids,
U.S. Maple,
The Residents,
Minor Threat,
OOIOO,
Hoover,
The American Breed,
Dual Sessions,
Janne Schatter,
Whodini,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
UT,
Easy Going,
Organ,
Wolf Eyes,
Heaven 17,
Loose Ends,
The Seeds,
Mission of Burma,
Minny Pops,
Deadbeat,
Nation of Ulysses,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Stetsasonic,
Charles Mingus,
Infiniti,
Funkadelic,
James White and The Blacks,
Popol Vuh,
The Shadows of Knight,
Porter Ricks,
Goldenarms,
DNA,
Gabor Szabo,
Graham Central Station,
The Pretty Things,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Cowsills,
Wally Richardson,
Freddie Wadling,
Scratch Acid,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Piero Umiliani,
Soulsonic Force,
June of 44,
Tubeway Army,
Clear Light,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Chris Corsano,
Q65,
Amon Düül II,
Groovy Waters,
Wasted Youth,
Symarip,
Jeff Lynne,
the Bar-Kays,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gang Starr,
Godley & Creme,
Maleditus Sound,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.