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 Benin and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Swans to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Sex Pistols,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ultimate Spinach,
Los Fastidios,
Laurel Aitken,
Oblivians,
Junior Murvin,
Marshall Jefferson,
Simply Red,
The Barracudas,
Reagan Youth,
Ituana,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Pagans,
Ten City,
the Sonics,
Sight & Sound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The American Breed,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Gun Club,
Bill Wells,
Tears for Fears,
Flamin' Groovies,
Outsiders,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rakim,
Gabor Szabo,
Lakeside,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Boogie Down Productions,
Grey Daturas,
The Count Five,
The Vogues,
Jeff Mills,
The Associates,
The Neon Judgement,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rapeman,
James White and The Blacks,
Index,
Suicide,
The Human League,
Monks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Curtis Mayfield,
Infiniti,
Marcia Griffiths,
Make Up,
Todd Rundgren,
Lightning Bolt,
Rosa Yemen,
The Sisters of Mercy,
John Lydon,
Lee Hazlewood,
Funkadelic,
Swans,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.