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 Benin and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the 808 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 Roy Ayers to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Peter & Gordon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Patti Smith,
Dorothy Ashby,
Desert Stars,
Judy Mowatt,
MDC,
The Monks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
China Crisis,
Liliput,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tom Boy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Amazonics,
Camouflage,
48th St. Collective,
The Slackers,
Sugar Minott,
The Wake,
Pylon,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Don Cherry,
The Durutti Column,
The Buckinghams,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Massinfluence,
Barrington Levy,
The Litter,
Black Bananas,
Tommy Roe,
Harmonia,
Cybotron,
Newcleus,
Man Parrish,
Gang of Four,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Crooked Eye,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Boredoms,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Roger Hodgson,
Intrusion,
Hardrive,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sandy B,
Tomorrow,
Amon Düül,
Nik Kershaw,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Remains,
Subhumans,
Lindisfarne,
The Fuzztones,
Sam Rivers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Evens,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.