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 Switzerland and from Calgary.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 Angry Samoans to the dance 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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
a-ha,
Desert Stars,
Drexciya,
Eli Mardock,
Silicon Teens,
Surgeon,
Warren Ellis,
Lakeside,
Minor Threat,
Barry Ungar,
Matthew Bourne,
The Fire Engines,
Los Fastidios,
Reagan Youth,
Eric Copeland,
Yusef Lateef,
Derrick May,
Magma,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Misunderstood,
The Cramps,
Fela Kuti,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Intrusion,
The Dead C,
Iggy Pop,
Lou Christie,
Shuggie Otis,
Gil Scott Heron,
Terry Callier,
In Retrospect,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kurtis Blow,
John Cale,
Popol Vuh,
Stockholm Monsters,
Donald Byrd,
Marmalade,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Neon Judgement,
The Move,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Con Funk Shun,
U.S. Maple,
Lower 48,
Brass Construction,
Minnie Riperton,
The J.B.'s,
Au Pairs,
The Cowsills,
Connie Case,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Litter,
FM Einheit,
Robert Hood,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Suicide,
Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith.
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.