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 Niger and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Cairo.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Rites of Spring to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drive Like Jehu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Ultimate Spinach,
Parry Music,
Lucky Dragons,
48th St. Collective,
Rod Modell,
Blake Baxter,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Zapp,
Eddi Front,
The Cramps,
Buzzcocks,
The Angels of Light,
Severed Heads,
The Electric Prunes,
The Gap Band,
The Fuzztones,
Quadrant,
The Mojo Men,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Moody Blues,
Mars,
Public Image Ltd.,
Brick,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Adolescents,
Iggy Pop,
Sparks,
Joe Finger,
The Leaves,
F. McDonald,
Banda Bassotti,
John Cale,
Minutemen,
The Sound,
Bush Tetras,
Sly & The Family Stone,
OOIOO,
Schoolly D,
Moebius,
Youth Brigade,
Shoche,
Ituana,
The Red Krayola,
Brothers Johnson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Icehouse,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Names,
Wire,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tres Demented,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Jawbox,
Lalann,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Charles Mingus,
Ludus,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Leonard Cohen,
Gang Gang Dance,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.