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 Georgia and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Paris.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 One Last Wish to the electroclash 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 Robert Görl. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
The Cowsills,
Faraquet,
K-Klass,
David Bowie,
Max Romeo,
Eric Dolphy,
Bob Dylan,
AZ,
Surgeon,
Public Enemy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Procol Harum,
Ken Boothe,
Howard Jones,
Jeru the Damaja,
Moby Grape,
Eve St. Jones,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bizarre Inc.,
X-102,
The New Christs,
Tom Boy,
Ultravox,
The Golliwogs,
Scion,
Ossler,
Depeche Mode,
Spoonie Gee,
Monolake,
Faust,
The Blackbyrds,
Sixth Finger,
China Crisis,
Judy Mowatt,
The Young Rascals,
Reagan Youth,
Crooked Eye,
Juan Atkins,
FM Einheit,
Eli Mardock,
Lakeside,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Soulsonic Force,
Zapp,
DJ Style,
Ultimate Spinach,
The J.B.'s,
Camberwell Now,
The Evens,
Andrew Hill,
Radiohead,
Oblivians,
The Smoke,
Althea and Donna,
Grauzone,
Electric Light Orchestra,
10cc,
D'Angelo,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.