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 Singapore and from Copenhagen.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 guitar 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the techno 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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Das Ding,
Young Marble Giants,
Liliput,
Unrelated Segments,
Slick Rick,
The American Breed,
Make Up,
Brass Construction,
ABC,
Wasted Youth,
Henry Cow,
Joensuu 1685,
the Germs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Zeros,
Black Sheep,
Scott Walker,
Bobby Byrd,
Robert Hood,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Moebius,
Cluster,
The Skatalites,
The Cramps,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dawn Penn,
ABBA,
Banda Bassotti,
The Offenders,
Arcadia,
Fatback Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Oneida,
Marvin Gaye,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Scratch Acid,
CMW,
UT,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tubeway Army,
Neil Young,
X-Ray Spex,
Shoche,
Bad Manners,
Infiniti,
Joe Smooth,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Smiths,
Pet Shop Boys,
Interpol,
Trumans Water,
The Dead C,
The Monochrome Set,
Bang On A Can,
Maleditus Sound,
Ronnie Foster,
Bill Near,
The Cure,
Siglo XX,
Swell Maps,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.