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 Malawi and from London.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Swans to the rock 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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
Sandy B,
Robert Hood,
Mars,
Shoche,
Henry Cow,
The Dave Clark Five,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Oneida,
The Golliwogs,
Accadde A,
Liliput,
Warren Ellis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Khruangbin,
Bootsy Collins,
Q and Not U,
Blake Baxter,
Mission of Burma,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ponytail,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Camouflage,
The Invisible,
Rapeman,
Bobby Sherman,
The Shadows of Knight,
Chris & Cosey,
Black Pus,
Arab on Radar,
June of 44,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rosa Yemen,
Sonny Sharrock,
Joe Finger,
Camberwell Now,
Quantec,
DJ Sneak,
Lungfish,
Trumans Water,
Lyres,
John Foxx,
David Axelrod,
Franke,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pantytec,
Arthur Verocai,
The Gories,
Rufus Thomas,
Nas,
The Monochrome Set,
Fear,
The Kinks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Bar-Kays,
The Grass Roots,
Freddie Wadling,
The Fortunes,
10cc,
Babytalk,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.