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 Belgium and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 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 Tres Demented to the grime 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 The Index. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
Ohio Players,
Tomorrow,
Electric Prunes,
Pulsallama,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Blackbyrds,
Vainqueur,
The Gladiators,
Wally Richardson,
Cameo,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Malaria!,
Black Pus,
Massinfluence,
Mr. Review,
Ponytail,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Babytalk,
the Soft Cell,
The Busters,
cv313,
Lebanon Hanover,
La Düsseldorf,
Jawbox,
Scientists,
Yazoo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sam Rivers,
Matthew Bourne,
Second Layer,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Brothers Johnson,
Morten Harket,
Gerry Rafferty,
Radiohead,
Q and Not U,
Bobby Sherman,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Black Flag,
Clear Light,
Heaven 17,
Dave Gahan,
the Bar-Kays,
Blake Baxter,
World's Most,
Flash Fearless,
Eli Mardock,
Warren Ellis,
Flipper,
The Slackers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ronan,
Infiniti,
The Real Kids,
Fatback Band,
Panda Bear,
The Detroit Cobras,
Roy Ayers,
Donald Byrd,
Stiv Bators,
Slick Rick,
Jerry's Kids,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.