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 Andorra and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Mumbai.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Patti Smith to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Teasers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Mark Hollis,
Crispian St. Peters,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tomorrow,
The Fuzztones,
Kaleidoscope,
Underground Resistance,
The Seeds,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The J.B.'s,
Tubeway Army,
Accadde A,
The Toasters,
ABC,
Arab on Radar,
Albert Ayler,
JFA,
Kayak,
Echospace,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Royal Trux,
The Durutti Column,
DNA,
10cc,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Altered Images,
KRS-One,
Von Mondo,
The Tremeloes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Country Teasers,
Metal Thangz,
The Searchers,
The Monochrome Set,
The United States of America,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Thee Headcoats,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Associates,
Ituana,
Nirvana,
Reagan Youth,
Siglo XX,
Public Image Ltd.,
Moss Icon,
John Lydon,
Andrew Hill,
Duran Duran,
Sarah Menescal,
The Slackers,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Association,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Q and Not U,
Sam Rivers,
Byron Stingily,
Graham Central Station,
Johnny Clarke,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Cowsills,
Subhumans,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.