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 Peru and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Thee Headcoats to the jazz 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 The Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Grandmaster Flash,
Agitation Free,
Gang of Four,
One Last Wish,
Parry Music,
the Association,
Theoretical Girls,
Eli Mardock,
Black Sheep,
Man Parrish,
CMW,
Lindisfarne,
Camberwell Now,
Eve St. Jones,
Excepter,
Black Moon,
Tim Buckley,
Bluetip,
Arab on Radar,
This Heat,
The Remains,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fat Boys,
EPMD,
Alison Limerick,
John Lydon,
Desert Stars,
Maleditus Sound,
JFA,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Alphaville,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Cameo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Freddie Wadling,
Alice Coltrane,
Eden Ahbez,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bobby Byrd,
Kenny Larkin,
Index,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ultravox,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bush Tetras,
The Velvet Underground,
Crooked Eye,
Hasil Adkins,
Royal Trux,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Gun Club,
The Sonics,
Eddi Front,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Fire Engines,
Leonard Cohen,
Bootsy Collins,
Procol Harum,
Sound Behaviour,
Terrestrial Tones,
Alton Ellis,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.