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 Uruguay and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 clarinet 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 Gastr Del Sol to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pantytec. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neu! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Mission of Burma,
Mary Jane Girls,
Harry Pussy,
Mark Hollis,
Sam Rivers,
Joyce Sims,
The Last Poets,
Deakin,
June of 44,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
R.M.O.,
The Fall,
Moby Grape,
Janne Schatter,
Drive Like Jehu,
LL Cool J,
The Cramps,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Oneida,
Aswad,
Man Eating Sloth,
Skarface,
The Zeros,
Fat Boys,
Porter Ricks,
Altered Images,
Bad Manners,
Royal Trux,
Q65,
Scion,
Ponytail,
D'Angelo,
Liliput,
Funkadelic,
The Misunderstood,
Crash Course in Science,
L. Decosne,
Camberwell Now,
John Holt,
Masters at Work,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sixth Finger,
Graham Central Station,
The Techniques,
The Associates,
Erasure,
Blake Baxter,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pet Shop Boys,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Severed Heads,
Minutemen,
a-ha,
The Remains,
The Pretty Things,
The Offenders,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Soft Cell,
Jimmy McGriff,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Althea and Donna,
Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach.
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.