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 San Marino and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 chamberlin 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the grunge 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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
Malaria!,
Arab on Radar,
B.T. Express,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Quantec,
Marine Girls,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Pop Group,
The Moody Blues,
Soul II Soul,
Erykah Badu,
Scientists,
Y Pants,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Camouflage,
Soft Cell,
Suicide,
Jeff Lynne,
Lungfish,
John Foxx,
Isaac Hayes,
T.S.O.L.,
DNA,
L. Decosne,
Boz Scaggs,
Gang Gang Dance,
David Axelrod,
The Skatalites,
Procol Harum,
Rapeman,
Wire,
Marmalade,
Pierre Henry,
Anthony Braxton,
Eddi Front,
Television,
Country Teasers,
Shuggie Otis,
Hasil Adkins,
Angry Samoans,
Glenn Branca,
Ten City,
Lucky Dragons,
X-102,
Interpol,
Essential Logic,
Harry Pussy,
The Neon Judgement,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eric Copeland,
Kevin Saunderson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Los Fastidios,
Amon Düül II,
Delon & Dalcan,
Siglo XX,
Nas,
Jeff Mills,
The Slits,
Stockholm Monsters,
Chris Corsano,
D'Angelo,
Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes.
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.