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 Netherlands and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 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 Gil Scott Heron to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Last Poets,
The Modern Lovers,
Severed Heads,
The Kinks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Amon Düül II,
Cameo,
Lebanon Hanover,
Von Mondo,
Jacob Miller,
Schoolly D,
UT,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Cure,
Marine Girls,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Tomorrow,
Marmalade,
X-Ray Spex,
Michelle Simonal,
The Searchers,
Main Source,
The Cramps,
Alphaville,
T. Rex,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Selecter,
The Beau Brummels,
Ponytail,
Rufus Thomas,
The Mojo Men,
Delon & Dalcan,
Flipper,
Soul II Soul,
Pylon,
Chris Corsano,
Mars,
E-Dancer,
Sight & Sound,
The Offenders,
Steve Hackett,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Pop Group,
Sex Pistols,
Oblivians,
Ultravox,
June Days,
Sonny Sharrock,
Quando Quango,
The Trojans,
Minutemen,
Andrew Hill,
Scion,
Junior Murvin,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Simply Red,
Index,
Brand Nubian,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White 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.