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 Samoa and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 arpeggiator 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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 Move,
Metal Thangz,
Aloha Tigers,
Qualms,
Erykah Badu,
L. Decosne,
Eve St. Jones,
Juan Atkins,
Shuggie Otis,
Howard Jones,
Susan Cadogan,
Isaac Hayes,
Tommy Roe,
The Fall,
Stereo Dub,
The Cramps,
ABBA,
Dave Gahan,
Alison Limerick,
Bobby Hutcherson,
La Düsseldorf,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dark Day,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Cameo,
Blake Baxter,
Das Ding,
Ossler,
Brass Construction,
Slave,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Davy DMX,
Heaven 17,
Dorothy Ashby,
Frankie Knuckles,
Au Pairs,
Minutemen,
Organ,
Bang On A Can,
Popol Vuh,
Soul II Soul,
The Offenders,
Jacob Miller,
Harmonia,
Deakin,
This Heat,
David Axelrod,
Cluster,
Black Bananas,
Scott Walker,
X-102,
CMW,
Kurtis Blow,
Albert Ayler,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dennis Brown,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Durutti Column,
8 Eyed Spy,
Patti Smith,
Byron Stingily,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.