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 Chad and from Johannesburg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Minutemen to the crunk 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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
CMW,
Visage,
Moebius,
James White and The Blacks,
Bobby Sherman,
Nirvana,
Hashim,
The Flesh Eaters,
Funky Four + One,
Harry Pussy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Gories,
T.S.O.L.,
Robert Görl,
Camouflage,
Chris Corsano,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Can,
Little Man,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Busters,
Reagan Youth,
Barry Ungar,
Fugazi,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
AZ,
Sällskapet,
Scientists,
Henry Cow,
Ossler,
Pet Shop Boys,
Desert Stars,
Bootsy Collins,
Bluetip,
Soul II Soul,
Simply Red,
Dorothy Ashby,
R.M.O.,
Lyres,
Dual Sessions,
E-Dancer,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Hoover,
Marmalade,
Kenny Larkin,
The Doobie Brothers,
Quando Quango,
Shoche,
Ronnie Foster,
the Germs,
Bobby Byrd,
Archie Shepp,
Tears for Fears,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marine Girls,
Saccharine Trust,
X-Ray Spex,
Steve Hackett,
Nik Kershaw,
Rakim,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.