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 Cuba and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
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 Al Stewart to the disco 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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith 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 an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Moebius,
Pulsallama,
Sun Ra,
Siglo XX,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Graham Central Station,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Spandau Ballet,
Connie Case,
Q and Not U,
Black Sheep,
Sister Nancy,
Cheater Slicks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kerrie Biddell,
Davy DMX,
The Misunderstood,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gang Starr,
Oneida,
Joe Finger,
Black Moon,
Marc Almond,
DNA,
Ultra Naté,
Lebanon Hanover,
Yazoo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Stereo Dub,
Amazonics,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sonny Sharrock,
Derrick May,
Sugar Minott,
Outsiders,
Jawbox,
The Names,
E-Dancer,
Tears for Fears,
Fugazi,
Gerry Rafferty,
Absolute Body Control,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Cymande,
Crispy Ambulance,
Harry Pussy,
Gang Green,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rites of Spring,
The Victims,
Blancmange,
China Crisis,
The Pretty Things,
Con Funk Shun,
Trumans Water,
Malaria!,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Quantec,
John Foxx,
Khruangbin,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.