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 Tajikistan and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Milan.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the guitar 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 Brass Construction to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Groovy Waters 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
T.S.O.L.,
Can,
The Tremeloes,
The Toasters,
Silicon Teens,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Arab on Radar,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jimmy McGriff,
Reuben Wilson,
Metal Thangz,
Anakelly,
Radio Birdman,
Rosa Yemen,
ABC,
Pole,
June Days,
Mark Hollis,
The Invisible,
The Zeros,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Harmonia,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sun City Girls,
Morten Harket,
PIL,
Shoche,
New York Dolls,
Lyres,
Unwound,
Smog,
Sixth Finger,
The Walker Brothers,
Scion,
Todd Terry,
Joey Negro,
June of 44,
Marshall Jefferson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Toni Rubio,
Robert Görl,
The Dirtbombs,
The Human League,
The Busters,
Aloha Tigers,
Leonard Cohen,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Black Pus,
Howard Jones,
X-101,
Qualms,
kango's stein massive,
Derrick Morgan,
Terrestrial Tones,
Steve Hackett,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
F. McDonald,
Black Moon,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.