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 Equatorial Guinea and from Spokane.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Symarip to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Dual Sessions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Michelle Simonal,
Nirvana,
Tubeway Army,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
MC5,
Wally Richardson,
The Raincoats,
Pantytec,
Janne Schatter,
Whodini,
Second Layer,
The Young Rascals,
UT,
Suburban Knight,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Monks,
Icehouse,
Boz Scaggs,
The Happenings,
Big Daddy Kane,
Joey Negro,
Black Sheep,
Barclay James Harvest,
Negative Approach,
Tears for Fears,
Dark Day,
DJ Style,
The Cure,
Spoonie Gee,
Wire,
Colin Newman,
Accadde A,
Reagan Youth,
Malaria!,
Popol Vuh,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Dave Clark Five,
Cymande,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Flipper,
Danielle Patucci,
Hashim,
John Lydon,
The Star Department,
John Foxx,
Black Flag,
Quantec,
The Beau Brummels,
The Residents,
June of 44,
Connie Case,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Modern Lovers,
Graham Central Station,
The Misunderstood,
Adolescents,
PIL,
Pierre Henry,
Marcia Griffiths,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.