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 Chad and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Bad Manners to the rock 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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Godley & Creme,
The Angels of Light,
John Holt,
John Coltrane,
Eurythmics,
The Sound,
Nico,
Ken Boothe,
Dawn Penn,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Mummies,
Black Flag,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kaleidoscope,
The Stooges,
Girls At Our Best!,
Robert Görl,
Amon Düül,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sun Ra,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Leonard Cohen,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
E-Dancer,
Smog,
Joey Negro,
Gichy Dan,
The Techniques,
Bootsy Collins,
Fear,
Con Funk Shun,
Barry Ungar,
AZ,
Black Moon,
F. McDonald,
Scrapy,
Shoche,
Sight & Sound,
Siglo XX,
Icehouse,
Fatback Band,
The J.B.'s,
Kenny Larkin,
Silicon Teens,
The Misunderstood,
Altered Images,
The Real Kids,
The Busters,
Massinfluence,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Crooked Eye,
Suicide,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sixth Finger,
R.M.O.,
The Star Department,
Tears for Fears,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.