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 Barbados and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Modern Lovers to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Amon Düül II. All the underground hits.
All Section 25 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
The Dirtbombs,
PIL,
Joyce Sims,
Sam Rivers,
The Smoke,
The Techniques,
This Heat,
Roger Hodgson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Idris Muhammad,
Harmonia,
Depeche Mode,
The Sonics,
Neu!,
Cybotron,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jeff Lynne,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Anakelly,
Matthew Halsall,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Scion,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tres Demented,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sight & Sound,
Althea and Donna,
The Names,
Quantec,
Negative Approach,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Neil Young,
Rakim,
The Moleskins,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Walker Brothers,
Fluxion,
Y Pants,
Ohio Players,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Fugs,
Liliput,
Brick,
Television,
The Real Kids,
Monolake,
The Cowsills,
World's Most,
The Stooges,
Kenny Larkin,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Alarm Clocks,
Blancmange,
The Wake,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.