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 Dominica and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Wolf Eyes to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Invisible. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Audionom record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Arthur Verocai,
Drexciya,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Avey Tare,
The Saints,
The Divine Comedy,
Pylon,
Magma,
The Dirtbombs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Malaria!,
Lalann,
Deadbeat,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sun City Girls,
Junior Murvin,
Urselle,
Skriet,
David McCallum,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Monochrome Set,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Rosa Yemen,
Schoolly D,
The Remains,
Shoche,
Crash Course in Science,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Arcadia,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Girls At Our Best!,
Buzzcocks,
Niagra,
Peter & Gordon,
Kenny Larkin,
Isaac Hayes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Johnny Osbourne,
Animal Collective,
The Barracudas,
Laurel Aitken,
Todd Rundgren,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Birthday Party,
Marshall Jefferson,
F. McDonald,
U.S. Maple,
48th St. Collective,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bill Wells,
Technova,
Goldenarms,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Litter,
Letta Mbulu,
The Black Dice,
Symarip,
Loose Ends,
Visage,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.