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 Mali and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Sixth Finger to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lyres 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle 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?
Niagra,
Moby Grape,
Mr. Review,
The Mojo Men,
Franke,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Camouflage,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dave Gahan,
Jandek,
Pierre Henry,
Subhumans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Crime,
Hoover,
Toni Rubio,
Laurel Aitken,
Pharoah Sanders,
The New Christs,
The Dirtbombs,
Fad Gadget,
Desert Stars,
The Angels of Light,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Residents,
Graham Central Station,
Deepchord,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gastr Del Sol,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Beau Brummels,
Skriet,
T. Rex,
Tomorrow,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lee Hazlewood,
Delon & Dalcan,
Trumans Water,
The Walker Brothers,
The Busters,
Sugar Minott,
DNA,
The Buckinghams,
Yusef Lateef,
Ossler,
kango's stein massive,
The Offenders,
Barclay James Harvest,
Alphaville,
The Black Dice,
Rapeman,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Cowsills,
Quando Quango,
Accadde A,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Saints,
Black Bananas,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.