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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Spokane.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Copenhagen.
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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Agitation Free to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Monolake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Silicon Teens,
Moebius,
Blake Baxter,
JFA,
Dawn Penn,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Janne Schatter,
Basic Channel,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Star Department,
Rekid,
T.S.O.L.,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eric Dolphy,
the Sonics,
The Buckinghams,
Tim Buckley,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Kinks,
DJ Sneak,
Eve St. Jones,
Grey Daturas,
Robert Wyatt,
Arthur Verocai,
Yazoo,
David McCallum,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bad Manners,
Colin Newman,
Jawbox,
Gerry Rafferty,
Liliput,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Black Moon,
Tommy Roe,
Icehouse,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Monks,
Ten City,
LL Cool J,
The Real Kids,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joey Negro,
Chrome,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Index,
Sun Ra,
Mark Hollis,
Gabor Szabo,
The Names,
La Düsseldorf,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Joe Smooth,
Sarah Menescal,
Marine Girls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Smog,
Bob Dylan,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.