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 Liberia and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 a-ha to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Porter Ricks,
The Birthday Party,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Radio Birdman,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Cramps,
The Offenders,
Magma,
Half Japanese,
Essential Logic,
Peter and Kerry,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Deepchord,
Marc Almond,
The Fugs,
Jawbox,
Jimmy McGriff,
Black Flag,
China Crisis,
Minutemen,
Loose Ends,
Con Funk Shun,
The Neon Judgement,
Warren Ellis,
Quando Quango,
New York Dolls,
The Busters,
Motorama,
Barrington Levy,
Severed Heads,
48th St. Collective,
Lungfish,
John Foxx,
Neil Young,
The Zeros,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Cure,
Gang Gang Dance,
Q and Not U,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Newcleus,
the Swans,
H. Thieme,
Royal Trux,
Amon Düül,
The Walker Brothers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Dorothy Ashby,
Accadde A,
Boredoms,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Archie Shepp,
Sarah Menescal,
Pantytec,
Fatback Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Harry Pussy,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.