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 Swaziland and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Suburban Knight to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
PIL,
Eli Mardock,
The Real Kids,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Essential Logic,
Ponytail,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jimmy McGriff,
A Flock of Seagulls,
John Coltrane,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rapeman,
Minnie Riperton,
The Remains,
the Swans,
L. Decosne,
John Holt,
Schoolly D,
Kurtis Blow,
Iggy Pop,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Model 500,
Erykah Badu,
Metal Thangz,
Don Cherry,
Danielle Patucci,
Magma,
The J.B.'s,
The Standells,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Nico,
Harry Pussy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
a-ha,
Con Funk Shun,
Mark Hollis,
Young Marble Giants,
Joe Finger,
Royal Trux,
Marine Girls,
Erasure,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tears for Fears,
Cluster,
China Crisis,
Hardrive,
Qualms,
The Monks,
The Modern Lovers,
Lightning Bolt,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Skriet,
Jeff Mills,
Soulsonic Force,
New Order,
Harmonia,
Freddie Wadling,
Thee Headcoats,
Isaac Hayes,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Fugs,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.