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 Jordan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Terry Callier 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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
The Doobie Brothers,
Graham Central Station,
KRS-One,
The Fugs,
Gang Starr,
Dead Boys,
Minor Threat,
The Modern Lovers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sight & Sound,
Barbara Tucker,
Popol Vuh,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Thompson Twins,
Girls At Our Best!,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mark Hollis,
Black Bananas,
The Slits,
Section 25,
Public Enemy,
The Raincoats,
The Mummies,
Alice Coltrane,
Fat Boys,
The Move,
Frankie Knuckles,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Tubeway Army,
Con Funk Shun,
Yusef Lateef,
Slave,
Warsaw,
World's Most,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Gories,
Janne Schatter,
Sun City Girls,
Underground Resistance,
10cc,
Terry Callier,
Japan,
Nick Fraelich,
EPMD,
Q and Not U,
The Saints,
Mission of Burma,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ten City,
Ornette Coleman,
Anthony Braxton,
Throbbing Gristle,
The United States of America,
Oblivians,
Subhumans,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Germs,
CMW,
Circle Jerks,
Tommy Roe,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.