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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Hong Kong.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 theremin 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 OOIOO to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Deepchord,
Mandrill,
Severed Heads,
Fear,
Sam Rivers,
Vladislav Delay,
Royal Trux,
Derrick May,
Eve St. Jones,
Mark Hollis,
The Buckinghams,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bill Near,
LL Cool J,
Tom Boy,
Underground Resistance,
China Crisis,
Sun City Girls,
Unrelated Segments,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eli Mardock,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lower 48,
Radiohead,
Masters at Work,
Michelle Simonal,
Metal Thangz,
Outsiders,
Pere Ubu,
Ten City,
Little Man,
James White and The Blacks,
Sixth Finger,
Matthew Halsall,
the Soft Cell,
Moby Grape,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Germs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ralphi Rosario,
Oneida,
Mad Mike,
X-102,
Kas Product,
Faraquet,
Andrew Hill,
Intrusion,
The Young Rascals,
The Dave Clark Five,
Robert Görl,
Boredoms,
Wally Richardson,
The Remains,
Ornette Coleman,
Iggy Pop,
Johnny Osbourne,
Reuben Wilson,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.