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 Tonga and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Flesh Eaters 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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
The Walker Brothers,
Mary Jane Girls,
D'Angelo,
the Germs,
Severed Heads,
Eve St. Jones,
Main Source,
Alice Coltrane,
Theoretical Girls,
Fugazi,
Guru Guru,
Metal Thangz,
Lakeside,
Aloha Tigers,
Joey Negro,
Funkadelic,
Moebius,
DJ Style,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Qualms,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gong,
Sällskapet,
The Skatalites,
Kevin Saunderson,
Wasted Youth,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Organ,
The Invisible,
a-ha,
Aural Exciters,
Lightning Bolt,
Massinfluence,
The Shadows of Knight,
Monks,
Dual Sessions,
Radio Birdman,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Warren Ellis,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eurythmics,
Simply Red,
Derrick May,
Darondo,
The Alarm Clocks,
Essential Logic,
Anthony Braxton,
Aswad,
Sixth Finger,
EPMD,
Kayak,
Bobby Byrd,
Second Layer,
The Tremeloes,
Robert Hood,
The Leaves,
Patti Smith,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.