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 Mongolia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Portland.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 New York Dolls to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Blossom Toes,
Thompson Twins,
Deepchord,
Funkadelic,
The Detroit Cobras,
Franke,
Outsiders,
Neil Young,
Marc Almond,
Urselle,
10cc,
Eddi Front,
Lalann,
The Walker Brothers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Delon & Dalcan,
UT,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lou Christie,
a-ha,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bobby Womack,
Glenn Branca,
Quantec,
Babytalk,
Minutemen,
Robert Wyatt,
Ronan,
Quadrant,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Human League,
Pantytec,
Soulsonic Force,
Jacques Brel,
K-Klass,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Japan,
Joy Division,
Vainqueur,
Subhumans,
Brothers Johnson,
Public Enemy,
Man Parrish,
R.M.O.,
the Sonics,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gang Starr,
Bush Tetras,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kerri Chandler,
Eurythmics,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Technova,
Electric Prunes,
Iggy Pop,
Magma,
Wings,
Unrelated Segments,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.