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 Belize and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Stereo Dub tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jawbox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Wings,
The Blackbyrds,
Isaac Hayes,
Al Stewart,
the Swans,
Shuggie Otis,
Ponytail,
Sonic Youth,
Josef K,
Pole,
Crash Course in Science,
Mars,
Rosa Yemen,
The Golliwogs,
Parry Music,
Steve Hackett,
Cal Tjader,
The Gap Band,
Organ,
The Real Kids,
Gong,
Wire,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Searchers,
Cheater Slicks,
Ituana,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
L. Decosne,
Marmalade,
The Young Rascals,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Angry Samoans,
Black Sheep,
48th St. Collective,
The Stooges,
The Moody Blues,
Guru Guru,
Mary Jane Girls,
Minor Threat,
Nick Fraelich,
The Sonics,
F. McDonald,
Reagan Youth,
Kurtis Blow,
Harmonia,
Bootsy Collins,
Black Moon,
Avey Tare,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Skaos,
Eli Mardock,
The Toasters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Freddie Wadling,
T. Rex,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.