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 Togo and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
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 F. McDonald to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Swans,
Sonic Youth,
Chris & Cosey,
Rufus Thomas,
Wasted Youth,
Infiniti,
Bang On A Can,
Rapeman,
Blossom Toes,
Thompson Twins,
The Modern Lovers,
Half Japanese,
The Fortunes,
Circle Jerks,
Young Marble Giants,
Radio Birdman,
Depeche Mode,
Unrelated Segments,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Yusef Lateef,
The Zeros,
Whodini,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Outsiders,
Ossler,
The Stooges,
Matthew Bourne,
Brass Construction,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Flash Fearless,
Spandau Ballet,
John Holt,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Livin' Joy,
Animal Collective,
FM Einheit,
Marc Almond,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Idris Muhammad,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pagans,
Gong,
Model 500,
The Buckinghams,
Inner City,
Yazoo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Panda Bear,
Gerry Rafferty,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Leaves,
Juan Atkins,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Monochrome Set,
Massinfluence,
The Vogues,
World's Most,
Khruangbin,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.