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 Honduras and from Beijing.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 X-101 to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols 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 '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 The Zeros record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Sun City Girls,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Electric Prunes,
Marc Almond,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
KRS-One,
Brand Nubian,
Sonic Youth,
Tom Boy,
Dead Boys,
Television,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Fall,
Lindisfarne,
Alphaville,
Negative Approach,
Cluster,
Lungfish,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gabor Szabo,
The Count Five,
Echospace,
Silicon Teens,
The Walker Brothers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Deadbeat,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Gap Band,
H. Thieme,
Jimmy McGriff,
Oneida,
Stiv Bators,
Barbara Tucker,
Kevin Saunderson,
Magma,
X-101,
The Seeds,
Cymande,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Martian,
Scion,
In Retrospect,
Boredoms,
Rod Modell,
The Mojo Men,
Bronski Beat,
Jacob Miller,
Hasil Adkins,
Harpers Bizarre,
Franke,
Todd Rundgren,
Bush Tetras,
The Stooges,
Radiohead,
The Modern Lovers,
Sparks,
Saccharine Trust,
Ten City,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.