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 Congo and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 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 a-ha to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
The Gladiators,
The Neon Judgement,
Tubeway Army,
Janne Schatter,
Metal Thangz,
Crooked Eye,
Ituana,
Cheater Slicks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Yusef Lateef,
Deadbeat,
David Axelrod,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Marshall Jefferson,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Roxy Music,
Lucky Dragons,
T.S.O.L.,
Grandmaster Flash,
Cal Tjader,
Ken Boothe,
Talk Talk,
Slick Rick,
Gang Green,
The United States of America,
the Normal,
Albert Ayler,
Deakin,
Slave,
Pussy Galore,
Flipper,
Sun City Girls,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rotary Connection,
Q and Not U,
Mission of Burma,
a-ha,
The Zeros,
Babytalk,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gil Scott Heron,
Spoonie Gee,
Darondo,
The Cure,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Y Pants,
Gang Starr,
Delta 5,
Scion,
Magazine,
Half Japanese,
Freddie Wadling,
Alice Coltrane,
Organ,
Subhumans,
Symarip,
Brand Nubian,
John Cale,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Harmonia,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft.
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.