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 Haiti and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 arpeggiator 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 Average White Band to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Gang of Four,
Circle Jerks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Con Funk Shun,
Avey Tare,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Cramps,
Curtis Mayfield,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Main Source,
The Happenings,
Ituana,
Byron Stingily,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sam Rivers,
Henry Cow,
Oneida,
Crash Course in Science,
Pet Shop Boys,
Isaac Hayes,
Tom Boy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gichy Dan,
Susan Cadogan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Blues Magoos,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Raincoats,
Man Parrish,
Sister Nancy,
Scott Walker,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Underground Resistance,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Nick Fraelich,
Wasted Youth,
Suburban Knight,
Tropical Tobacco,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ronnie Foster,
Thee Headcoats,
Peter & Gordon,
Toni Rubio,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lou Christie,
JFA,
Rotary Connection,
Al Stewart,
Surgeon,
Soulsonic Force,
Iggy Pop,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Public Image Ltd.,
Stereo Dub,
Buzzcocks,
Nils Olav,
Pulsallama,
Chris Corsano,
48th St. Collective,
Donny Hathaway,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.