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 Moldova and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Public Image Ltd. to the jazz 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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Model 500 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
The Dirtbombs,
Ultimate Spinach,
Underground Resistance,
Lungfish,
The Invisible,
Niagra,
Pierre Henry,
The Red Krayola,
the Normal,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Sound,
Agent Orange,
Infiniti,
The Walker Brothers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
L. Decosne,
The Trojans,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ten City,
Aloha Tigers,
Harpers Bizarre,
In Retrospect,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Angry Samoans,
Prince Buster,
Piero Umiliani,
Iggy Pop,
Monolake,
ABBA,
Nick Fraelich,
New Order,
The Electric Prunes,
Warren Ellis,
Hashim,
Delta 5,
Model 500,
Adolescents,
Tears for Fears,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Drexciya,
The Neon Judgement,
Rufus Thomas,
Eric Copeland,
Khruangbin,
Marine Girls,
The Stooges,
Bronski Beat,
The Dead C,
Metal Thangz,
Charles Mingus,
Laurel Aitken,
Dennis Brown,
Shuggie Otis,
Nik Kershaw,
Whodini,
Cheater Slicks,
Tom Boy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Technova,
John Cale,
The Seeds,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.