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 Germany and from Cairo.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 organ 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 Kerri Chandler to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Mad Mike,
The Real Kids,
Anakelly,
Nirvana,
Chrome,
Ronnie Foster,
Jesper Dahlback,
8 Eyed Spy,
Icehouse,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The American Breed,
Crooked Eye,
Monks,
Peter & Gordon,
Shuggie Otis,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Grass Roots,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Black Bananas,
Bad Manners,
Carl Craig,
EPMD,
Lucky Dragons,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cluster,
A Certain Ratio,
Soulsonic Force,
The Red Krayola,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Popol Vuh,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Juan Atkins,
Bush Tetras,
The Blackbyrds,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Black Flag,
David McCallum,
Delta 5,
The Shadows of Knight,
the Human League,
Sex Pistols,
The Monks,
Eurythmics,
The Standells,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Groovy Waters,
Ken Boothe,
The Saints,
Lou Reed,
Gang Green,
This Heat,
The Toasters,
Cheater Slicks,
Soul II Soul,
Aloha Tigers,
Harmonia,
Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes.
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.