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 Andorra and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Chris Corsano to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
The Pretty Things,
Stetsasonic,
Television,
Unwound,
A Certain Ratio,
Hasil Adkins,
Soul Sonic Force,
David McCallum,
The Dave Clark Five,
Duran Duran,
The Doors,
10cc,
Bang On A Can,
Tubeway Army,
Gerry Rafferty,
Todd Terry,
Dark Day,
The Leaves,
Marc Almond,
Deakin,
Shuggie Otis,
The Invisible,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sight & Sound,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nik Kershaw,
Lindisfarne,
Fat Boys,
Steve Hackett,
CMW,
Interpol,
Derrick May,
Ossler,
E-Dancer,
The Saints,
Quando Quango,
Joyce Sims,
Ponytail,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ituana,
La Düsseldorf,
Maleditus Sound,
Boredoms,
Maurizio,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Los Fastidios,
Bill Wells,
the Swans,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bluetip,
The Golliwogs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eden Ahbez,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lightning Bolt,
Minutemen,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.