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 Romania and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Dead Boys to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter 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 harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flash Fearless record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
Desert Stars,
Aswad,
FM Einheit,
Fad Gadget,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ralphi Rosario,
Severed Heads,
Visage,
The Smoke,
Delta 5,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Radio Birdman,
Urselle,
John Foxx,
T.S.O.L.,
The Black Dice,
The Slits,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
New Age Steppers,
Mandrill,
June Days,
The Blues Magoos,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Nils Olav,
Underground Resistance,
Pere Ubu,
David Bowie,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Red Krayola,
Sex Pistols,
The Golliwogs,
Electric Prunes,
Funkadelic,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Suburban Knight,
This Heat,
Skarface,
Banda Bassotti,
Judy Mowatt,
Alison Limerick,
Kenny Larkin,
Donny Hathaway,
Index,
48th St. Collective,
Jawbox,
Girls At Our Best!,
LL Cool J,
Eve St. Jones,
K-Klass,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Vainqueur,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
the Association,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Little Man,
Tommy Roe,
Pierre Henry,
Sällskapet,
Fugazi,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.