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 Angola and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gastr Del Sol to the dance 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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quantec 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Davy DMX,
One Last Wish,
Mary Jane Girls,
Niagra,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Iggy Pop,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Soft Cell,
Technova,
Kayak,
Swans,
Hot Snakes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Subhumans,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sun City Girls,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Busters,
Idris Muhammad,
Animal Collective,
Tears for Fears,
Flipper,
The Monochrome Set,
Nirvana,
L. Decosne,
Suburban Knight,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Charles Mingus,
Ronnie Foster,
Hasil Adkins,
B.T. Express,
The Dirtbombs,
Roxy Music,
Anthony Braxton,
Tubeway Army,
Amon Düül II,
Cecil Taylor,
Half Japanese,
E-Dancer,
Donald Byrd,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kevin Saunderson,
Metal Thangz,
Minutemen,
Throbbing Gristle,
X-102,
Lou Christie,
Angry Samoans,
Model 500,
Liliput,
Henry Cow,
Ultravox,
Todd Terry,
Jawbox,
Josef K,
Fad Gadget,
Negative Approach,
Smog,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.