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 El Salvador and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 synthesizer 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 The Gun Club to the punk 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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Skriet,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Y Pants,
Jerry's Kids,
Spoonie Gee,
DNA,
Electric Prunes,
JFA,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Sonics,
the Soft Cell,
Lower 48,
Andrew Hill,
Bush Tetras,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Steve Hackett,
Adolescents,
The Velvet Underground,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rufus Thomas,
Pagans,
Depeche Mode,
Joy Division,
Soul II Soul,
Grandmaster Flash,
Brothers Johnson,
DJ Style,
Boogie Down Productions,
Shoche,
OOIOO,
The Fortunes,
The Trojans,
Eric Copeland,
The Sound,
Ralphi Rosario,
Negative Approach,
Anakelly,
The Move,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Wasted Youth,
Slick Rick,
The Last Poets,
Agitation Free,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
World's Most,
Minny Pops,
David Axelrod,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Fania All-Stars,
kango's stein massive,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Human League,
Minor Threat,
Pharoah Sanders,
Dennis Brown,
Skaos,
The Dirtbombs,
Gabor Szabo,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.