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 Liberia and from Copenhagen.
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 Lyon and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ronnie Foster to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
The Dead C,
Motorama,
Visage,
Suicide,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Terrestrial Tones,
Index,
The Slits,
John Holt,
Kevin Saunderson,
Grey Daturas,
Cecil Taylor,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lindisfarne,
The Cure,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Unwound,
Aloha Tigers,
Mark Hollis,
Glenn Branca,
Suburban Knight,
Johnny Osbourne,
Aswad,
Marvin Gaye,
Scion,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ten City,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eden Ahbez,
It's A Beautiful Day,
DJ Style,
U.S. Maple,
Parry Music,
Magma,
Skarface,
The Music Machine,
JFA,
Isaac Hayes,
kango's stein massive,
Desert Stars,
Q65,
Crime,
Man Eating Sloth,
Half Japanese,
The Gories,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Talk Talk,
The Fall,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pierre Henry,
X-101,
Camberwell Now,
Electric Light Orchestra,
a-ha,
The Busters,
Procol Harum,
Bobby Womack,
The Alarm Clocks,
Johnny Clarke,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.