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 South Sudan and from Lyon.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Donald Fagen 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 Pagans to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All The Residents 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
The Durutti Column,
Talk Talk,
The Smiths,
Ice-T,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Severed Heads,
The Wake,
Eve St. Jones,
Prince Buster,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bush Tetras,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jandek,
the Germs,
Isaac Hayes,
Alice Coltrane,
Fat Boys,
Barry Ungar,
The Moleskins,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lalo Schifrin,
Man Eating Sloth,
Skriet,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Fugazi,
DJ Sneak,
Gang Green,
Dorothy Ashby,
These Immortal Souls,
Royal Trux,
Country Joe & The Fish,
CMW,
Sound Behaviour,
Jeff Lynne,
Matthew Halsall,
Flipper,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Theoretical Girls,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Crash Course in Science,
Eric Copeland,
The Zeros,
The Trojans,
Flamin' Groovies,
Soul Sonic Force,
Anthony Braxton,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Joe Finger,
Radiohead,
Scan 7,
The Skatalites,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Mummies,
The Slackers,
Shoche,
Man Parrish,
KRS-One,
Sonny Sharrock,
Cheater Slicks,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.