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 Bhutan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Shanghai.
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 synthesizer 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 Rod Modell to the grime 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Morten Harket,
Amon Düül II,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Barrington Levy,
Surgeon,
Easy Going,
Jeru the Damaja,
Wasted Youth,
Brothers Johnson,
Public Image Ltd.,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Barbara Tucker,
Boredoms,
DNA,
Goldenarms,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Litter,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gang Green,
Sällskapet,
Jeff Mills,
Depeche Mode,
The Happenings,
Clear Light,
Jeff Lynne,
Tomorrow,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Tremeloes,
Slave,
John Foxx,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Black Dice,
Gang of Four,
John Cale,
Los Fastidios,
The Moleskins,
The United States of America,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gichy Dan,
Pantytec,
Hashim,
Bang On A Can,
Masters at Work,
Moebius,
Mission of Burma,
The New Christs,
David McCallum,
Scratch Acid,
D'Angelo,
The Pretty Things,
Television Personalities,
Warsaw,
the Soft Cell,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Gories,
The Blues Magoos,
Marine Girls,
Cheater Slicks,
Scan 7,
Pussy Galore,
8 Eyed Spy,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.