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 Croatia and from Edmonton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Toronto.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 kango's stein massive to the grime 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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Isaac Hayes,
The Monks,
The Mummies,
Swans,
Susan Cadogan,
Index,
Donald Byrd,
Fugazi,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Amon Düül,
U.S. Maple,
Robert Wyatt,
Todd Terry,
The Birthday Party,
Aloha Tigers,
The Invisible,
Excepter,
Cameo,
Eden Ahbez,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Standells,
Fat Boys,
Flipper,
The Dirtbombs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sällskapet,
OOIOO,
Roxette,
The Kinks,
The Victims,
Sonic Youth,
The Smoke,
Ultimate Spinach,
Quantec,
Lalo Schifrin,
Zapp,
Barrington Levy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Iggy Pop,
Gang Gang Dance,
Judy Mowatt,
Minnie Riperton,
Deepchord,
Heaven 17,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Camouflage,
Girls At Our Best!,
James White and The Blacks,
a-ha,
Shoche,
Janne Schatter,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Young Rascals,
The Martian,
Cluster,
Quadrant,
Johnny Osbourne,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Joy Division,
Surgeon,
Newcleus,
Rosa Yemen,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.