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 Panama and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 DJ Style to the crunk 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 Busters. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Magazine,
Robert Hood,
the Bar-Kays,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tres Demented,
The Slits,
Pere Ubu,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Matthew Bourne,
Section 25,
John Foxx,
The Stooges,
Johnny Osbourne,
Qualms,
The Sound,
Arthur Verocai,
DJ Style,
The Doors,
Lower 48,
The Invisible,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Beau Brummels,
Stetsasonic,
Audionom,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bad Manners,
Procol Harum,
Glenn Branca,
Ornette Coleman,
Country Teasers,
Unwound,
The Dave Clark Five,
Minny Pops,
Peter & Gordon,
The Red Krayola,
X-101,
Spandau Ballet,
Sällskapet,
Crime,
Barclay James Harvest,
Brothers Johnson,
Yellowson,
The Move,
The Cowsills,
Young Marble Giants,
Tears for Fears,
T.S.O.L.,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Joey Negro,
Traffic Nightmare,
Symarip,
Hasil Adkins,
The Knickerbockers,
The Saints,
The Wake,
Fugazi,
Boredoms,
World's Most,
Rites of Spring,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.