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 Togo and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 organ 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 Crooked Eye to the crunk 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warren Ellis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Chrome,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nas,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Little Man,
Metal Thangz,
Niagra,
The Moody Blues,
The Fire Engines,
The Fortunes,
Ituana,
Unrelated Segments,
Warren Ellis,
kango's stein massive,
Roy Ayers,
The Detroit Cobras,
John Lydon,
Zapp,
Johnny Osbourne,
Television Personalities,
Rites of Spring,
Crime,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Blossom Toes,
The Five Americans,
The Modern Lovers,
The Monochrome Set,
Moss Icon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mandrill,
The Cowsills,
Tim Buckley,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Reagan Youth,
Josef K,
Pere Ubu,
Jimmy McGriff,
Panda Bear,
Crash Course in Science,
X-Ray Spex,
Symarip,
Pagans,
Kurtis Blow,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Sonics,
48th St. Collective,
Vladislav Delay,
Dorothy Ashby,
Magazine,
Duran Duran,
Ultra Naté,
Talk Talk,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Boredoms,
Piero Umiliani,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Laurel Aitken,
The Cure,
Loose Ends,
Tubeway Army,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.