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 Finland and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 güiro 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 Fad Gadget to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Schoolly D. All the underground hits.
All Monolake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Isaac Hayes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Janne Schatter,
Quando Quango,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Soft Cell,
Excepter,
Negative Approach,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Thompson Twins,
Buzzcocks,
Unwound,
The Music Machine,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lucky Dragons,
Roxy Music,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Adolescents,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lindisfarne,
Eric B and Rakim,
Khruangbin,
Nik Kershaw,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Fuzztones,
Blake Baxter,
Ronnie Foster,
New Order,
The New Christs,
Vladislav Delay,
Silicon Teens,
Connie Case,
Anakelly,
Matthew Bourne,
Mad Mike,
David Bowie,
Joe Finger,
F. McDonald,
Fugazi,
Henry Cow,
Von Mondo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pylon,
The Toasters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Raincoats,
Bauhaus,
Darondo,
Desert Stars,
The Trojans,
The Angels of Light,
Todd Rundgren,
New Age Steppers,
New York Dolls,
Davy DMX,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pantytec,
Tommy Roe,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.