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 Kuwait and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Boogie Down Productions to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Grey Daturas,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Adolescents,
John Lydon,
Blancmange,
Dual Sessions,
Easy Going,
Parry Music,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Dirtbombs,
Ultra Naté,
Smog,
Hot Snakes,
Black Pus,
Theoretical Girls,
Deepchord,
Flipper,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rotary Connection,
Hasil Adkins,
Mission of Burma,
The Moleskins,
Unrelated Segments,
Liliput,
Thee Headcoats,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Busters,
Fort Wilson Riot,
DJ Sneak,
Basic Channel,
The Gap Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scott Walker,
Maleditus Sound,
Black Moon,
Judy Mowatt,
John Holt,
The Skatalites,
JFA,
Al Stewart,
ABC,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
ABBA,
X-102,
The Doobie Brothers,
Interpol,
The United States of America,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Knickerbockers,
D'Angelo,
Siglo XX,
B.T. Express,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eric Dolphy,
Susan Cadogan,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cheater Slicks,
Lou Reed,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.