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 Dominica 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin 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 X-101 to the techno 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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Isaac Hayes,
Q and Not U,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lou Reed,
The Modern Lovers,
Vainqueur,
Skarface,
Drexciya,
Quando Quango,
Mad Mike,
Brand Nubian,
Aaron Thompson,
Davy DMX,
The Gun Club,
Rites of Spring,
Khruangbin,
Barry Ungar,
The Mojo Men,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Tremeloes,
Marc Almond,
The Techniques,
Section 25,
Bill Near,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Five Americans,
John Lydon,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Moebius,
Royal Trux,
Adolescents,
the Soft Cell,
The Gladiators,
KRS-One,
Archie Shepp,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Deakin,
R.M.O.,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Guru Guru,
Howard Jones,
Model 500,
The Martian,
The American Breed,
The Velvet Underground,
Bob Dylan,
Joensuu 1685,
The Sound,
Ronan,
Marine Girls,
The Beau Brummels,
Theoretical Girls,
Half Japanese,
Yaz,
Deadbeat,
Tommy Roe,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Barbara Tucker,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.