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 Moldova and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 808 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 the Normal to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
The Five Americans,
Amon Düül II,
Marcia Griffiths,
Black Bananas,
Wolf Eyes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tubeway Army,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Symarip,
Parry Music,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cecil Taylor,
Maurizio,
Suicide,
The Modern Lovers,
Dawn Penn,
Rufus Thomas,
The Associates,
PIL,
Nils Olav,
Glenn Branca,
Dennis Brown,
Sexual Harrassment,
Motorama,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Kinks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
H. Thieme,
Jerry's Kids,
Technova,
Ultra Naté,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marc Almond,
The Fortunes,
Monks,
Interpol,
James White and The Blacks,
D'Angelo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ludus,
Traffic Nightmare,
Connie Case,
Moss Icon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Joyce Sims,
DJ Sneak,
8 Eyed Spy,
New Order,
Accadde A,
Anthony Braxton,
Agitation Free,
Bill Wells,
The Evens,
Jeff Mills,
Sällskapet,
The Searchers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Easy Going,
John Foxx,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.