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 Jordan and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bill Wells to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Buzzcocks,
Animal Collective,
Michelle Simonal,
Grauzone,
The Fire Engines,
Harry Pussy,
The Vogues,
Bluetip,
Lou Christie,
Dual Sessions,
The Selecter,
Quantec,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Black Bananas,
PIL,
AZ,
Scientists,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gong,
Bob Dylan,
The Alarm Clocks,
John Coltrane,
Barry Ungar,
Rhythm & Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
Skriet,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eddi Front,
the Slits,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ronan,
Eli Mardock,
The Count Five,
U.S. Maple,
Television Personalities,
Rapeman,
Intrusion,
Thee Headcoats,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Names,
Newcleus,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Residents,
China Crisis,
Country Joe & The Fish,
48th St. Collective,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Connie Case,
Radiohead,
Hardrive,
Rod Modell,
Interpol,
Yaz,
Black Moon,
Kerri Chandler,
Moebius,
Liliput,
Reagan Youth,
Jacques Brel,
Magazine,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.