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 Estonia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Nick Fraelich to the jazz 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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
FM Einheit,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bush Tetras,
Bill Wells,
Barry Ungar,
Zero Boys,
Severed Heads,
Wasted Youth,
Piero Umiliani,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lou Christie,
Fugazi,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sugar Minott,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Swell Maps,
Skriet,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Crime,
Excepter,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Second Layer,
Dennis Brown,
The Sonics,
Soul II Soul,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Symarip,
Q65,
World's Most,
Interpol,
Angry Samoans,
Joensuu 1685,
Rotary Connection,
Popol Vuh,
Gang Green,
Amazonics,
Tubeway Army,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Monks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
DJ Sneak,
Godley & Creme,
Monolake,
Spoonie Gee,
H. Thieme,
AZ,
The Skatalites,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Gun Club,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Sound,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Anakelly,
MDC,
The Vogues,
X-101,
Soul Sonic Force,
Roxette,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of 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.