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 Kiribati and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 harpsichord 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 Pagans to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 the Human League. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every In Retrospect record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Quantec,
Skarface,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Newcleus,
Wolf Eyes,
Gang of Four,
The Last Poets,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Adolescents,
The Stooges,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bauhaus,
Vladislav Delay,
Swell Maps,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Goldenarms,
Tropical Tobacco,
China Crisis,
Sex Pistols,
Television,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Neon Judgement,
Stereo Dub,
The Monks,
Michelle Simonal,
Ponytail,
Crispy Ambulance,
Porter Ricks,
Steve Hackett,
Wire,
Moebius,
The Velvet Underground,
Qualms,
The United States of America,
JFA,
the Bar-Kays,
Jacques Brel,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jacob Miller,
The Mojo Men,
Peter & Gordon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tommy Roe,
Lindisfarne,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Erasure,
Sam Rivers,
Pussy Galore,
the Swans,
Hardrive,
Soulsonic Force,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bootsy Collins,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ten City,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Neu!,
Andrew Hill,
Susan Cadogan,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.