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 Poland and from Shanghai.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 rhodes 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 The Gun Club to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Niagra,
Fad Gadget,
Quando Quango,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bill Near,
The Blues Magoos,
Fear,
Fat Boys,
Howard Jones,
Pagans,
New York Dolls,
Young Marble Giants,
Second Layer,
Au Pairs,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Pus,
Mo-Dettes,
Dawn Penn,
Icehouse,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mad Mike,
Rufus Thomas,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Quadrant,
Accadde A,
Joyce Sims,
Ohio Players,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Mummies,
Terrestrial Tones,
Patti Smith,
Pylon,
Peter and Kerry,
The Trojans,
Roxy Music,
Royal Trux,
Section 25,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Neu!,
Lakeside,
Lower 48,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bang On A Can,
Negative Approach,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Yellowson,
Arab on Radar,
World's Most,
Essential Logic,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Qualms,
John Foxx,
Faraquet,
The Victims,
Black Moon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
New Order,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.