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 Syria and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin 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 Little Man to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gang Green,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Hot Snakes,
The J.B.'s,
Godley & Creme,
Echospace,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Busters,
Grauzone,
Tomorrow,
Surgeon,
The Neon Judgement,
Donny Hathaway,
Michelle Simonal,
Glenn Branca,
Funky Four + One,
Peter and Kerry,
Flipper,
Juan Atkins,
The Gladiators,
Oneida,
John Lydon,
Eden Ahbez,
Neil Young,
Scion,
Scott Walker,
Brothers Johnson,
Matthew Bourne,
Anthony Braxton,
Sex Pistols,
Rufus Thomas,
Basic Channel,
John Foxx,
Babytalk,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rekid,
The Moody Blues,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Agent Orange,
Nils Olav,
John Cale,
The Fugs,
Arthur Verocai,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Johnny Clarke,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mars,
The Walker Brothers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rhythm & Sound,
Erykah Badu,
Letta Mbulu,
Loose Ends,
T. Rex,
Con Funk Shun,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Los Fastidios,
Deepchord,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.