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 Benin and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Copenhagen.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Hashim 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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Sam Rivers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Residents,
Alice Coltrane,
Sight & Sound,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gong,
Pole,
Wire,
Audionom,
Marmalade,
Cameo,
The Fortunes,
Tom Boy,
The Divine Comedy,
Index,
Byron Stingily,
Saccharine Trust,
Hashim,
Rites of Spring,
Dennis Brown,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ralphi Rosario,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
X-101,
Thee Headcoats,
Johnny Osbourne,
Thompson Twins,
Monks,
The Monks,
Minutemen,
The Slackers,
Black Sheep,
Maurizio,
Subhumans,
Eve St. Jones,
Chrome,
The Buckinghams,
Funky Four + One,
Lou Christie,
Technova,
UT,
Q65,
Bronski Beat,
the Human League,
Camouflage,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rekid,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Q and Not U,
Dark Day,
Rapeman,
Kenny Larkin,
The Monochrome Set,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
This Heat,
FM Einheit,
Quadrant,
The Slits,
Hardrive,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Searchers,
Patti Smith,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.