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 Tunisia and from Mexico City.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Slits to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonic Youth,
8 Eyed Spy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Electric Prunes,
Kayak,
June of 44,
the Normal,
Pierre Henry,
Brand Nubian,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Crooked Eye,
Freddie Wadling,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Groovy Waters,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Derrick Morgan,
Tres Demented,
Cal Tjader,
the Soft Cell,
Chris Corsano,
Parry Music,
Bobby Byrd,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ponytail,
The Vogues,
Neu!,
The Remains,
Moss Icon,
The Count Five,
Ohio Players,
Skarface,
the Human League,
The Cure,
Graham Central Station,
Blancmange,
FM Einheit,
Deakin,
Davy DMX,
Tomorrow,
Silicon Teens,
Spoonie Gee,
Scratch Acid,
Ken Boothe,
The Smoke,
Pantaleimon,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nils Olav,
New York Dolls,
Ultra Naté,
Nirvana,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gang Starr,
Fatback Band,
Man Parrish,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Au Pairs,
The Fuzztones,
The Searchers,
Swell Maps,
Masters at Work,
UT,
Underground Resistance,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.