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 Kyrgyzstan and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 synthesizer 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 Last Poets to the jazz 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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mantronix,
Groovy Waters,
The Fall,
Bootsy Collins,
The Standells,
The Count Five,
Lebanon Hanover,
Joe Smooth,
Ronan,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Second Layer,
Loose Ends,
Mars,
The Busters,
Sixth Finger,
New Age Steppers,
Ronnie Foster,
Unwound,
AZ,
Mr. Review,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Little Man,
Drexciya,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Matthew Halsall,
Patti Smith,
Flash Fearless,
Wally Richardson,
PIL,
Scion,
Joey Negro,
The Durutti Column,
The Alarm Clocks,
La Düsseldorf,
ABBA,
Rufus Thomas,
the Soft Cell,
Tres Demented,
Piero Umiliani,
Oblivians,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
John Holt,
Tropical Tobacco,
Angry Samoans,
The Move,
Yazoo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Organ,
Spandau Ballet,
The Beau Brummels,
The Martian,
Wasted Youth,
The Gladiators,
Jeff Lynne,
The Fugs,
The Happenings,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Metal Thangz,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.