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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Faust to the dance 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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
Barry Ungar,
R.M.O.,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nirvana,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Country Teasers,
Jawbox,
New Age Steppers,
T.S.O.L.,
Joey Negro,
Moby Grape,
H. Thieme,
The Smoke,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Star Department,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Knickerbockers,
Can,
Mission of Burma,
The Divine Comedy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Reagan Youth,
Man Eating Sloth,
Tres Demented,
Lalo Schifrin,
Marc Almond,
Carl Craig,
June of 44,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Black Dice,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Minor Threat,
JFA,
Spoonie Gee,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Amon Düül,
Dennis Brown,
Blossom Toes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Janne Schatter,
Kurtis Blow,
Ice-T,
John Lydon,
Dark Day,
Interpol,
David Bowie,
Michelle Simonal,
Reuben Wilson,
Andrew Hill,
Goldenarms,
Soul Sonic Force,
Von Mondo,
Clear Light,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.