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 Syria and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Tim Buckley,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Alarm Clocks,
Grey Daturas,
Brass Construction,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Barclay James Harvest,
Alphaville,
FM Einheit,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Gang Starr,
Darondo,
The Monochrome Set,
Y Pants,
Faust,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Fortunes,
AZ,
Metal Thangz,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pole,
A Certain Ratio,
Ponytail,
Kas Product,
Alison Limerick,
Bang On A Can,
Lungfish,
Lebanon Hanover,
Black Pus,
Scrapy,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lightning Bolt,
The Stooges,
Joe Finger,
Groovy Waters,
Gong,
X-102,
Pere Ubu,
Harry Pussy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sun City Girls,
The New Christs,
Brick,
Tears for Fears,
Gil Scott Heron,
Barrington Levy,
Roxette,
Minnie Riperton,
Subhumans,
Crash Course in Science,
The Litter,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Thompson Twins,
Liliput,
The Fugs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Warsaw,
Joensuu 1685,
Black Moon,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.