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 Zambia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the crunk 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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Black Sheep,
Brick,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Terry Callier,
T.S.O.L.,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sixth Finger,
Sarah Menescal,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Human League,
The Motions,
Pole,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jimmy McGriff,
Donald Byrd,
Newcleus,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cluster,
Electric Prunes,
Young Marble Giants,
John Foxx,
Swans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Wasted Youth,
Josef K,
Sun City Girls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Roger Hodgson,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pulsallama,
Dorothy Ashby,
Soft Machine,
The Wake,
The Detroit Cobras,
Neu!,
Dark Day,
Skaos,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
ABC,
Babytalk,
Deadbeat,
Popol Vuh,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Tomorrow,
Rufus Thomas,
Carl Craig,
Grey Daturas,
Derrick May,
Massinfluence,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Scratch Acid,
Angry Samoans,
Outsiders,
Con Funk Shun,
The Martian,
John Coltrane,
Radio Birdman,
The Modern Lovers,
China Crisis,
Ludus,
Black Pus,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.