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 Andorra and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the dance 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
The Residents,
Easy Going,
OOIOO,
The Divine Comedy,
Alice Coltrane,
B.T. Express,
Dennis Brown,
The Moody Blues,
Mars,
Yazoo,
Gang Green,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bob Dylan,
Godley & Creme,
the Normal,
Wasted Youth,
The Barracudas,
Severed Heads,
X-101,
Parry Music,
Davy DMX,
Magazine,
Q65,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Minutemen,
Anakelly,
John Foxx,
Pantytec,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ludus,
Oblivians,
The Mojo Men,
Radiopuhelimet,
Slick Rick,
AZ,
Hashim,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Brick,
The Pretty Things,
The Alarm Clocks,
Babytalk,
Monks,
The Dirtbombs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
EPMD,
MC5,
Blancmange,
Tom Boy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Slackers,
Flipper,
The Modern Lovers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Robert Görl,
cv313,
The Count Five,
Outsiders,
Boz Scaggs,
Stiv Bators,
Nirvana,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.