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 Zimbabwe and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 oboe 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 Shoche to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Von Mondo,
Boz Scaggs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Accadde A,
Whodini,
Andrew Hill,
Surgeon,
Joe Finger,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rosa Yemen,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Move,
Fugazi,
DJ Sneak,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Massinfluence,
Hasil Adkins,
the Normal,
The Victims,
Robert Wyatt,
U.S. Maple,
Scrapy,
Joy Division,
Don Cherry,
The Pretty Things,
Barbara Tucker,
Gang Green,
Bill Near,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bill Wells,
LL Cool J,
Flash Fearless,
Gang of Four,
Drive Like Jehu,
MC5,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Vogues,
Jerry's Kids,
K-Klass,
Judy Mowatt,
Lightning Bolt,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Matthew Halsall,
Boredoms,
Grey Daturas,
The Mojo Men,
Freddie Wadling,
The Slackers,
Jeff Mills,
Johnny Clarke,
cv313,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Leonard Cohen,
Cheater Slicks,
Gabor Szabo,
Nils Olav,
John Cale,
Boogie Down Productions,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.