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 Haiti and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Iggy Pop to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alison Limerick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
John Foxx,
Newcleus,
The Smiths,
Bobby Womack,
Al Stewart,
Niagra,
This Heat,
Sex Pistols,
Sexual Harrassment,
Michelle Simonal,
La Düsseldorf,
Drexciya,
Clear Light,
Animal Collective,
Fad Gadget,
Au Pairs,
Eve St. Jones,
The Evens,
The Walker Brothers,
The Barracudas,
Reagan Youth,
Don Cherry,
Metal Thangz,
Jawbox,
Scion,
Cluster,
Bill Near,
The Gap Band,
Joe Finger,
Desert Stars,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lindisfarne,
kango's stein massive,
Masters at Work,
The Zeros,
Mo-Dettes,
The Trojans,
Banda Bassotti,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Darondo,
DJ Style,
X-102,
Los Fastidios,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Derrick Morgan,
Marcia Griffiths,
Hoover,
Motorama,
Throbbing Gristle,
Alice Coltrane,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Slackers,
Deakin,
Maurizio,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Subhumans,
The Modern Lovers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Main Source,
Jacob Miller,
Maleditus Sound,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.