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 Paraguay and from Bologna.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mantronix to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David McCallum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Procol Harum,
Outsiders,
Unrelated Segments,
Eddi Front,
Pylon,
The Neon Judgement,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bad Manners,
Spoonie Gee,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Country Teasers,
The Happenings,
Thompson Twins,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rod Modell,
Cluster,
Ituana,
Hasil Adkins,
48th St. Collective,
Lou Christie,
The Smiths,
JFA,
Yusef Lateef,
Buzzcocks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Remains,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Guru Guru,
Curtis Mayfield,
Delon & Dalcan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Negative Approach,
Sällskapet,
The Smoke,
Charles Mingus,
Donald Byrd,
Sun Ra,
Livin' Joy,
Joensuu 1685,
Unwound,
Todd Terry,
Quadrant,
Slick Rick,
This Heat,
The Fall,
Todd Rundgren,
The Golliwogs,
Kerrie Biddell,
Quantec,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Can,
Skarface,
K-Klass,
Warsaw,
Masters at Work,
Bob Dylan,
Pet Shop Boys,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Archie Shepp,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.