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 Ecuador and from Manila.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Lou Reed 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 Black Sheep to the disco 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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Freddie Wadling,
the Slits,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cheater Slicks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ituana,
Oneida,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Dave Clark Five,
These Immortal Souls,
Danielle Patucci,
Boz Scaggs,
Arthur Verocai,
Mars,
Darondo,
Alphaville,
Joey Negro,
Grey Daturas,
Throbbing Gristle,
Chris Corsano,
Pharoah Sanders,
Vainqueur,
Nirvana,
Masters at Work,
Patti Smith,
Shuggie Otis,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Black Pus,
James Chance & The Contortions,
DNA,
Panda Bear,
Electric Prunes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jesper Dahlback,
Reagan Youth,
Dead Boys,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Girls At Our Best!,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ten City,
Minny Pops,
Agitation Free,
Moebius,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Inner City,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
June of 44,
Chrome,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rekid,
Eurythmics,
Easy Going,
Sight & Sound,
Altered Images,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Q and Not U,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pet Shop Boys,
Warsaw,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Loose Ends,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.