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 Israel and from Bremen.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lille.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Todd Rundgren to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Bob Dylan,
Mantronix,
Connie Case,
Bill Near,
AZ,
Minor Threat,
Surgeon,
Yellowson,
John Coltrane,
A Certain Ratio,
Patti Smith,
Maurizio,
Outsiders,
Gastr Del Sol,
Mad Mike,
Barbara Tucker,
Susan Cadogan,
The Fall,
Pulsallama,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Camouflage,
Roxy Music,
Unwound,
Little Man,
Tom Boy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Mummies,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Todd Rundgren,
Nils Olav,
F. McDonald,
The Knickerbockers,
Organ,
Barry Ungar,
Amazonics,
Reuben Wilson,
Don Cherry,
The American Breed,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Banda Bassotti,
Make Up,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
DNA,
the Soft Cell,
Albert Ayler,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Con Funk Shun,
Tomorrow,
Au Pairs,
Procol Harum,
Suicide,
Los Fastidios,
Smog,
E-Dancer,
Kenny Larkin,
Robert Görl,
R.M.O.,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.