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 Iraq and from Cairo.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 snare 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ralphi Rosario,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bobby Sherman,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Angry Samoans,
Banda Bassotti,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Kinks,
ABC,
Todd Rundgren,
MDC,
Monolake,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Josef K,
Mo-Dettes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eric Copeland,
Matthew Bourne,
The Invisible,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Neon Judgement,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Zapp,
Warsaw,
Skaos,
Henry Cow,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tears for Fears,
Ten City,
Rapeman,
Deakin,
Sixth Finger,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Godley & Creme,
Heaven 17,
Skriet,
Little Man,
Cecil Taylor,
X-101,
Spoonie Gee,
DJ Style,
Wasted Youth,
Babytalk,
Todd Terry,
10cc,
Arthur Verocai,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Saints,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Arab on Radar,
Delta 5,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Marc Almond,
Quadrant,
Eddi Front,
Carl Craig,
In Retrospect,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.