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 Poland and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Beau Brummels to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Livin' Joy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Adolescents,
Sällskapet,
Rhythm & Sound,
Angry Samoans,
The Index,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Country Teasers,
The Misunderstood,
Man Parrish,
Radio Birdman,
John Cale,
Grauzone,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
CMW,
Bill Near,
Bobby Sherman,
Crispy Ambulance,
Subhumans,
Ultravox,
Barclay James Harvest,
Funky Four + One,
Scientists,
Nico,
OOIOO,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Dual Sessions,
The Invisible,
PIL,
Lakeside,
The J.B.'s,
Marmalade,
Rites of Spring,
Freddie Wadling,
Barry Ungar,
The American Breed,
Cheater Slicks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mission of Burma,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Juan Atkins,
Gong,
Nils Olav,
Delon & Dalcan,
China Crisis,
Connie Case,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Skriet,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Trojans,
Amazonics,
Wasted Youth,
The Barracudas,
X-102,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.