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 Afghanistan and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 clarinet 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 The Star Department to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Erykah Badu,
Can,
The Remains,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Doors,
Make Up,
Moebius,
Second Layer,
Brick,
Black Flag,
Cecil Taylor,
Rotary Connection,
Black Pus,
Isaac Hayes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fluxion,
H. Thieme,
Young Marble Giants,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rod Modell,
The Smoke,
Royal Trux,
Siglo XX,
Japan,
Minnie Riperton,
Roxy Music,
Tears for Fears,
Black Sheep,
Faust,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mad Mike,
Toni Rubio,
The New Christs,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Gap Band,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Theoretical Girls,
The Buckinghams,
Tim Buckley,
Susan Cadogan,
Deadbeat,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
A Certain Ratio,
ABC,
The Star Department,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Five Americans,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Camberwell Now,
Marshall Jefferson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Standells,
Eric Dolphy,
Quadrant,
Babytalk,
Camouflage,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.