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 Tanzania and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manila.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Depeche Mode to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Niagra,
The Sound,
The Music Machine,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Outsiders,
Fad Gadget,
Eric B and Rakim,
Juan Atkins,
The Grass Roots,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Saccharine Trust,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Davy DMX,
The Cramps,
Maleditus Sound,
Banda Bassotti,
The Toasters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fat Boys,
John Foxx,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Roxy Music,
Faust,
Ituana,
Andrew Hill,
Amazonics,
Freddie Wadling,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Germs,
the Fania All-Stars,
K-Klass,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eve St. Jones,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Babytalk,
Ronan,
Television,
Malaria!,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fugazi,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Last Poets,
Goldenarms,
Bluetip,
The Move,
The Count Five,
The Index,
Vainqueur,
In Retrospect,
Animal Collective,
The Detroit Cobras,
Roger Hodgson,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marine Girls,
Black Pus,
Model 500,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pantytec,
Desert Stars,
The Dead C,
Deepchord,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.