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 Chile and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 spring reverb 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 China Crisis to the funk 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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grey Daturas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
The Remains,
Henry Cow,
Crime,
Pantaleimon,
Barbara Tucker,
The Grass Roots,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gichy Dan,
Sister Nancy,
Quantec,
Marshall Jefferson,
A Certain Ratio,
Todd Rundgren,
David McCallum,
Bobby Byrd,
H. Thieme,
Oneida,
Tears for Fears,
Jacob Miller,
Sun City Girls,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Angels of Light,
Funkadelic,
Colin Newman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fela Kuti,
Roxy Music,
Rotary Connection,
Hardrive,
Nation of Ulysses,
Crooked Eye,
Chris & Cosey,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Steve Hackett,
The Slackers,
Essential Logic,
Monks,
The Velvet Underground,
Radio Birdman,
Matthew Bourne,
Index,
Bill Near,
Boredoms,
Underground Resistance,
Avey Tare,
Suicide,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Last Poets,
Albert Ayler,
Bronski Beat,
Arcadia,
The United States of America,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Warsaw,
JFA,
Little Man,
The Gories,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.