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 Philippines and from Delhi.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ 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 Todd Terry to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Cowsills,
Henry Cow,
John Holt,
Glenn Branca,
Television Personalities,
Deadbeat,
Joey Negro,
AZ,
the Bar-Kays,
Bang On A Can,
Fat Boys,
Black Bananas,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Neu!,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Eve St. Jones,
Adolescents,
Faust,
Massinfluence,
Depeche Mode,
Soft Cell,
The Motions,
The Buckinghams,
Altered Images,
Cameo,
the Germs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Metal Thangz,
The Five Americans,
The Monks,
Anthony Braxton,
Negative Approach,
The Slackers,
Peter and Kerry,
The Dead C,
Lee Hazlewood,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
New Order,
A Certain Ratio,
Amazonics,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Dark Day,
World's Most,
Kas Product,
The Fugs,
Sex Pistols,
Lou Reed,
Patti Smith,
Tomorrow,
T.S.O.L.,
The Leaves,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kool Moe Dee,
Blancmange,
Y Pants,
Stereo Dub,
Ornette Coleman,
The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band.
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.