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 Turkmenistan and from Copenhagen.
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 Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Patti Smith to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Camouflage,
Fear,
Slave,
The Tremeloes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Soft Cell,
Zapp,
Sparks,
Newcleus,
Pantaleimon,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Y Pants,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fugazi,
Crispian St. Peters,
Nik Kershaw,
K-Klass,
Circle Jerks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Drive Like Jehu,
Amon Düül II,
Outsiders,
the Sonics,
Scott Walker,
Tubeway Army,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Fire Engines,
Malaria!,
Schoolly D,
Blossom Toes,
Jeff Mills,
Derrick Morgan,
The Associates,
Nirvana,
Johnny Clarke,
the Slits,
Terrestrial Tones,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Ten City,
Gregory Isaacs,
Public Image Ltd.,
Andrew Hill,
Roxy Music,
June Days,
Reagan Youth,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nas,
Masters at Work,
R.M.O.,
Moby Grape,
The Index,
The Evens,
Gang Starr,
Hot Snakes,
Juan Atkins,
Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes.
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.