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 Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Searchers to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kas Product,
Stockholm Monsters,
Connie Case,
Public Image Ltd.,
Niagra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Joy Division,
Half Japanese,
The Skatalites,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Gun Club,
Electric Prunes,
The Cramps,
The Offenders,
Cal Tjader,
Black Bananas,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Peter & Gordon,
Lou Christie,
The Monks,
The Saints,
Warren Ellis,
Mr. Review,
Man Eating Sloth,
Glambeats Corp.,
Excepter,
Young Marble Giants,
Wasted Youth,
Minor Threat,
The Invisible,
Roxette,
Marvin Gaye,
Steve Hackett,
Flipper,
Nas,
Wings,
Eric Dolphy,
The Velvet Underground,
UT,
Freddie Wadling,
Ken Boothe,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Doors,
Pharoah Sanders,
Brothers Johnson,
Grauzone,
Au Pairs,
Joey Negro,
The Dirtbombs,
Index,
Quando Quango,
Moss Icon,
The Young Rascals,
Mad Mike,
John Cale,
Frankie Knuckles,
X-102,
The Monochrome Set,
Tommy Roe,
Rites of Spring,
Robert Hood,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.