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 Equatorial Guinea and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 marimba 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the disco 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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABBA 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
Warsaw,
The Fugs,
Hoover,
kango's stein massive,
Massinfluence,
John Coltrane,
the Slits,
Arthur Verocai,
Scan 7,
Surgeon,
Talk Talk,
The Sound,
Mandrill,
Bronski Beat,
Oneida,
Lalann,
Cheater Slicks,
Popol Vuh,
L. Decosne,
Livin' Joy,
Hardrive,
Young Marble Giants,
Peter & Gordon,
Scott Walker,
The Pop Group,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Young Rascals,
Procol Harum,
The Motions,
The Seeds,
Sam Rivers,
Scratch Acid,
The Birthday Party,
Moebius,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ultra Naté,
Barbara Tucker,
Robert Görl,
Eric Copeland,
China Crisis,
Y Pants,
Patti Smith,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Junior Murvin,
Nico,
Soft Cell,
The Techniques,
Gichy Dan,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Delon & Dalcan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Con Funk Shun,
10cc,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Technova,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Fire Engines,
Crime,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.