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 Senegal and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Mission of Burma to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Association record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
the Association,
Infiniti,
Johnny Clarke,
Scan 7,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
ABC,
Pierre Henry,
Deepchord,
Grey Daturas,
The Fugs,
Fear,
Traffic Nightmare,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rod Modell,
Sandy B,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Marine Girls,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pylon,
Bobby Byrd,
Shoche,
48th St. Collective,
The Wake,
The Searchers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Flipper,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lower 48,
Inner City,
Ronan,
Chris Corsano,
Banda Bassotti,
Essential Logic,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Crispy Ambulance,
Roy Ayers,
Erykah Badu,
Crooked Eye,
The Real Kids,
the Bar-Kays,
Ice-T,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bob Dylan,
Trumans Water,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Monks,
Althea and Donna,
Royal Trux,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bronski Beat,
The Barracudas,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eurythmics,
Television Personalities,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lou Reed,
Sparks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Make Up,
Spoonie Gee,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.