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 United States and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jawbox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
The Sonics,
Tubeway Army,
Robert Görl,
CMW,
Quadrant,
Black Bananas,
Sällskapet,
The Seeds,
The Martian,
Spandau Ballet,
The Sound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
PIL,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Grauzone,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Suburban Knight,
This Heat,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Piero Umiliani,
Schoolly D,
John Foxx,
Intrusion,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kayak,
Ohio Players,
Au Pairs,
Gang of Four,
Rufus Thomas,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Todd Terry,
Television,
K-Klass,
Cecil Taylor,
Technova,
Drexciya,
Faust,
Parry Music,
Barbara Tucker,
The Fall,
Joensuu 1685,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mr. Review,
Lalann,
Aloha Tigers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
John Cale,
Y Pants,
Avey Tare,
Goldenarms,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rakim,
Das Ding,
Bob Dylan,
Shoche,
The Misunderstood,
Soft Cell,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.