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 Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Fortunes to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & John Cale,
John Cale,
Minny Pops,
Ronan,
the Normal,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Thompson Twins,
Alice Coltrane,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Smog,
Amazonics,
Television,
Susan Cadogan,
the Swans,
The Index,
Jesper Dahlback,
Fat Boys,
Soft Machine,
The Doors,
Jawbox,
The Sonics,
Bill Wells,
Heaven 17,
Dawn Penn,
Wasted Youth,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sonic Youth,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Harry Pussy,
Gang Green,
Ice-T,
The Vogues,
The Neon Judgement,
Technova,
Banda Bassotti,
Sam Rivers,
Inner City,
The Black Dice,
Joe Finger,
Tom Boy,
Lightning Bolt,
Q and Not U,
Mantronix,
Malaria!,
Delta 5,
Skarface,
Symarip,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Minor Threat,
Kas Product,
Lungfish,
The Dead C,
Deakin,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Arab on Radar,
Cluster,
Negative Approach,
E-Dancer,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Minnie Riperton,
Neil Young,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.