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 Samoa and from London.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Beijing.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Moby Grape to the dance 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 The Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Ultravox,
Deadbeat,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Sound,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Happenings,
Robert Wyatt,
Sun Ra,
The Monochrome Set,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jeff Lynne,
UT,
Das Ding,
Judy Mowatt,
Kenny Larkin,
Bobby Sherman,
The Dead C,
Surgeon,
Circle Jerks,
Soft Machine,
The American Breed,
Kurtis Blow,
Clear Light,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sonic Youth,
The Fugs,
Todd Terry,
Pantaleimon,
Flipper,
Warsaw,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Whodini,
Lower 48,
The Fuzztones,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tom Boy,
Fugazi,
Chrome,
Junior Murvin,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Cymande,
Byron Stingily,
Terrestrial Tones,
Crooked Eye,
Pierre Henry,
B.T. Express,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bill Wells,
Bluetip,
Pet Shop Boys,
Joe Smooth,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sight & Sound,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Simply Red,
Liliput,
Excepter,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lou Christie,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.