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 Guinea and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 D'Angelo to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Tom Boy. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
the Germs,
Adolescents,
Erykah Badu,
Mantronix,
Make Up,
Brick,
Johnny Osbourne,
Spandau Ballet,
B.T. Express,
Excepter,
Pussy Galore,
Bizarre Inc.,
Blossom Toes,
the Human League,
The Grass Roots,
Derrick Morgan,
Arab on Radar,
Aaron Thompson,
Livin' Joy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Stiv Bators,
Yazoo,
The Evens,
Fear,
Lungfish,
Reagan Youth,
Television Personalities,
The Index,
Pagans,
Kas Product,
Radio Birdman,
Bill Near,
Brass Construction,
Minutemen,
Jawbox,
the Soft Cell,
The Leaves,
June Days,
Public Enemy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Funkadelic,
Soft Cell,
Young Marble Giants,
Barry Ungar,
CMW,
Qualms,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Stooges,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eli Mardock,
Deakin,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cal Tjader,
Faust,
Pole,
Jacques Brel,
Warren Ellis,
Drexciya,
Porter Ricks,
Blake Baxter,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.