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 Costa Rica and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 linndrum 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 K-Klass to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Half Japanese record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Youth Brigade,
Das Ding,
Lindisfarne,
The Sonics,
DJ Style,
Rotary Connection,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Intrusion,
Vainqueur,
Cybotron,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sugar Minott,
Man Eating Sloth,
Livin' Joy,
H. Thieme,
The Music Machine,
Sandy B,
Eurythmics,
The Fall,
Lou Christie,
Alice Coltrane,
Reagan Youth,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Spandau Ballet,
Subhumans,
Lower 48,
Simply Red,
Mad Mike,
Pussy Galore,
Nils Olav,
The Techniques,
Swell Maps,
Aaron Thompson,
X-Ray Spex,
Severed Heads,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Harry Pussy,
Suicide,
MC5,
The Star Department,
Chrome,
David Axelrod,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gang Green,
Lou Reed,
Black Flag,
Oblivians,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gang Gang Dance,
Albert Ayler,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Offenders,
Janne Schatter,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
David McCallum,
Black Moon,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Happenings,
Clear Light,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.