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 Armenia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 harpsichord 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the grunge 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 X-101. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Marshall Jefferson,
OOIOO,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Soft Cell,
Faust,
Bill Near,
Wings,
Jawbox,
Supertramp,
Scan 7,
The Offenders,
The Mojo Men,
The Zeros,
Underground Resistance,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Stooges,
David Axelrod,
Model 500,
Lalann,
The Fuzztones,
This Heat,
Bang On A Can,
New Age Steppers,
Roy Ayers,
Wire,
The Move,
Half Japanese,
Spandau Ballet,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dave Gahan,
DNA,
Nils Olav,
DJ Style,
June Days,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Durutti Column,
Saccharine Trust,
Ponytail,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cameo,
Hardrive,
Josef K,
Drive Like Jehu,
Whodini,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bobby Sherman,
Mary Jane Girls,
UT,
Hot Snakes,
Morten Harket,
Jacques Brel,
The Victims,
The Seeds,
Wally Richardson,
The Fall,
Unwound,
The American Breed,
Quantec,
The Moleskins,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.