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 Sweden and from Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pole to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Adolescents,
Bauhaus,
Johnny Clarke,
Roxy Music,
Amon Düül,
Joe Smooth,
Silicon Teens,
The Victims,
Fela Kuti,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Banda Bassotti,
Maleditus Sound,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Suburban Knight,
Intrusion,
Gichy Dan,
Depeche Mode,
Trumans Water,
Simply Red,
Dennis Brown,
The Shadows of Knight,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pussy Galore,
FM Einheit,
Matthew Halsall,
Kaleidoscope,
the Bar-Kays,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Groovy Waters,
Lou Christie,
The J.B.'s,
The Human League,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Cecil Taylor,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Marvin Gaye,
Marmalade,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fluxion,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Names,
D'Angelo,
The Offenders,
Gang Green,
Marshall Jefferson,
China Crisis,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Litter,
Sun City Girls,
Donny Hathaway,
Echospace,
The Techniques,
Tears for Fears,
Lungfish,
Henry Cow,
Newcleus,
Monolake,
Ornette Coleman,
The Modern Lovers,
A Certain Ratio,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Last Poets,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.