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 St Lucia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 mellotron 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 the Germs to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Joe Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Vainqueur,
Kayak,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lightning Bolt,
Chris Corsano,
The Fugs,
Boz Scaggs,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ten City,
Gang Gang Dance,
Patti Smith,
Harry Pussy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Derrick May,
Y Pants,
Agitation Free,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Freddie Wadling,
Iggy Pop,
Mark Hollis,
The Real Kids,
Isaac Hayes,
Quantec,
Con Funk Shun,
Ossler,
Howard Jones,
Darondo,
Los Fastidios,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Excepter,
Pantaleimon,
Michelle Simonal,
The Angels of Light,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Red Krayola,
Joe Smooth,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dennis Brown,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sight & Sound,
The Residents,
Neu!,
Skriet,
Shuggie Otis,
Boredoms,
Wolf Eyes,
Faust,
Wally Richardson,
Deepchord,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Minor Threat,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Cure,
Motorama,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.