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 Zimbabwe and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar 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 Tres Demented to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Michelle Simonal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Lou Reed,
Sonic Youth,
The Barracudas,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rites of Spring,
Clear Light,
The Divine Comedy,
The Slits,
48th St. Collective,
the Bar-Kays,
James White and The Blacks,
Masters at Work,
Gichy Dan,
Yusef Lateef,
Robert Görl,
Japan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Wolf Eyes,
Gang Green,
Gang of Four,
Country Teasers,
LL Cool J,
Anthony Braxton,
Tropical Tobacco,
ABC,
The Leaves,
Idris Muhammad,
H. Thieme,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sun City Girls,
The Offenders,
Nas,
Judy Mowatt,
a-ha,
Joe Finger,
Sarah Menescal,
Alison Limerick,
The Velvet Underground,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Tremeloes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Fall,
Make Up,
Brothers Johnson,
Crash Course in Science,
Nation of Ulysses,
Index,
Sight & Sound,
Lyres,
The Birthday Party,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Hoover,
The Fire Engines,
Lebanon Hanover,
Joyce Sims,
Graham Central Station,
Susan Cadogan,
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.