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 Bangladesh and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Negative Approach to the electroclash 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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
Warren Ellis,
Fatback Band,
Nick Fraelich,
Talk Talk,
The Five Americans,
Mary Jane Girls,
Magma,
Mr. Review,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Sonics,
Clear Light,
Man Eating Sloth,
Newcleus,
Wasted Youth,
Moby Grape,
F. McDonald,
Eurythmics,
Bizarre Inc.,
Royal Trux,
Nas,
Subhumans,
The Standells,
Bluetip,
Joe Finger,
Gang Green,
Vainqueur,
The Blues Magoos,
Tres Demented,
Rites of Spring,
Wire,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dawn Penn,
Letta Mbulu,
Nation of Ulysses,
Blossom Toes,
Technova,
Outsiders,
Chris Corsano,
Moss Icon,
Dead Boys,
The Victims,
The Wake,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
X-101,
Vladislav Delay,
Stetsasonic,
Johnny Clarke,
Electric Prunes,
The Grass Roots,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Oneida,
Faraquet,
Qualms,
kango's stein massive,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Urselle,
Robert Hood,
Bobby Byrd,
Bootsy Collins,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.