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 Samoa and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Aloha Tigers to the grunge 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
The Slackers,
Pere Ubu,
Technova,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rufus Thomas,
Steve Hackett,
Bronski Beat,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Joe Smooth,
the Swans,
Arthur Verocai,
The J.B.'s,
Fugazi,
Hashim,
Todd Rundgren,
The Saints,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Oblivians,
Angry Samoans,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Los Fastidios,
Derrick Morgan,
Aswad,
AZ,
Wally Richardson,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
LL Cool J,
The Stooges,
Mission of Burma,
Gang of Four,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Piero Umiliani,
Delta 5,
Bauhaus,
Joyce Sims,
The Names,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Grass Roots,
Nik Kershaw,
T. Rex,
New York Dolls,
Ten City,
Eli Mardock,
Lalann,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Goldenarms,
Shuggie Otis,
Laurel Aitken,
The Star Department,
Fear,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Eric Copeland,
Gang Gang Dance,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.