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 Papua New Guinea and from Houston.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Crispy Ambulance to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Vladislav Delay,
Moss Icon,
The Evens,
Boredoms,
Iggy Pop,
Bauhaus,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Saccharine Trust,
Stetsasonic,
Jacob Miller,
Interpol,
Jeff Mills,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Index,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
OOIOO,
Sonny Sharrock,
Funkadelic,
Neil Young,
Minor Threat,
Eli Mardock,
Monolake,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Raincoats,
Joey Negro,
Deepchord,
Janne Schatter,
Tres Demented,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Bar-Kays,
Magma,
Visage,
Q and Not U,
Oneida,
The Music Machine,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Derrick May,
Crispy Ambulance,
Metal Thangz,
Graham Central Station,
Neu!,
Animal Collective,
Big Daddy Kane,
JFA,
Al Stewart,
Heaven 17,
Archie Shepp,
Basic Channel,
Procol Harum,
John Coltrane,
Blake Baxter,
Jesper Dahlback,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Liliput,
The Red Krayola,
Dead Boys,
Tommy Roe,
Nik Kershaw,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.