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 Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sound to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Kinks,
Mission of Burma,
Alphaville,
Aswad,
Amon Düül II,
Deakin,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scrapy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Minny Pops,
Jerry's Kids,
Joyce Sims,
Can,
Saccharine Trust,
Bang On A Can,
The Index,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Slackers,
Flash Fearless,
Amazonics,
Panda Bear,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dorothy Ashby,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
David Axelrod,
Talk Talk,
Warren Ellis,
Idris Muhammad,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Man Parrish,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
R.M.O.,
the Swans,
Pagans,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Moby Grape,
Quadrant,
The Fire Engines,
Sonny Sharrock,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Royal Trux,
Agitation Free,
Trumans Water,
Hasil Adkins,
Chris Corsano,
Sun City Girls,
Siglo XX,
Vladislav Delay,
Aloha Tigers,
The Selecter,
Sound Behaviour,
The Gap Band,
Faraquet,
Wasted Youth,
Bootsy Collins,
Robert Görl,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Section 25,
Sonic Youth,
Judy Mowatt,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jacques Brel,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.