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 Brunei and from Milan.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Terry Callier 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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Christie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
Swans,
Tomorrow,
Susan Cadogan,
Fad Gadget,
Nik Kershaw,
Mary Jane Girls,
FM Einheit,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Saints,
Lalo Schifrin,
Livin' Joy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Fugazi,
Pagans,
Monolake,
James White and The Blacks,
Bobby Womack,
The Trojans,
Cymande,
Oblivians,
Severed Heads,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Marc Almond,
New Order,
Wings,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Black Pus,
Amon Düül,
Franke,
Pylon,
The American Breed,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Shoche,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pussy Galore,
Wolf Eyes,
Lakeside,
Nico,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Crash Course in Science,
Ash Ra Tempel,
EPMD,
Porter Ricks,
One Last Wish,
The Dirtbombs,
The Searchers,
Cameo,
Kas Product,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jimmy McGriff,
Davy DMX,
Outsiders,
Jesper Dahlback,
Leonard Cohen,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
H. Thieme,
Nirvana,
Mo-Dettes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.