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 Albania and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 Glasgow and Manila.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Drive Like Jehu 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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Smog,
Average White Band,
Crash Course in Science,
Spoonie Gee,
The Grass Roots,
the Slits,
Porter Ricks,
The Durutti Column,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Todd Rundgren,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Camberwell Now,
Stetsasonic,
Absolute Body Control,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Moon,
Black Bananas,
Jandek,
Harry Pussy,
Heaven 17,
The Martian,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Neu!,
Kerrie Biddell,
David Bowie,
Suicide,
Boogie Down Productions,
Funkadelic,
Peter & Gordon,
Arcadia,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Beau Brummels,
a-ha,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Symarip,
Cluster,
The Motions,
Deadbeat,
Supertramp,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Leonard Cohen,
Talk Talk,
Ornette Coleman,
OOIOO,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ronan,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jeff Mills,
Pantytec,
Scan 7,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Camouflage,
Outsiders,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marine Girls,
The J.B.'s,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.