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 Japan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 The Monks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Curtis Mayfield,
Talk Talk,
Patti Smith,
Oblivians,
Idris Muhammad,
Sixth Finger,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
John Lydon,
Albert Ayler,
MC5,
Lucky Dragons,
The Neon Judgement,
The Saints,
Audionom,
Deadbeat,
Wolf Eyes,
Rhythm & Sound,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Gun Club,
Kenny Larkin,
The Dirtbombs,
The Tremeloes,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cybotron,
Eve St. Jones,
Grauzone,
Josef K,
Barbara Tucker,
DJ Style,
The Fortunes,
Davy DMX,
Joe Smooth,
Yazoo,
Q and Not U,
Soft Machine,
Nick Fraelich,
La Düsseldorf,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Fear,
Joey Negro,
Scion,
Television,
June of 44,
Suburban Knight,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Harry Pussy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Martian,
The Litter,
Rufus Thomas,
a-ha,
Jesper Dahlback,
Arcadia,
Pagans,
Amon Düül II,
Sex Pistols,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Carl Craig,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.