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 Syria and from Accra.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Moleskins 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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
New Order,
8 Eyed Spy,
Chris & Cosey,
Kas Product,
A Certain Ratio,
The Count Five,
World's Most,
John Foxx,
Nick Fraelich,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Dawn Penn,
Lungfish,
The Slits,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Sonics,
Scratch Acid,
Amazonics,
Rites of Spring,
Surgeon,
The Red Krayola,
Stereo Dub,
The Selecter,
Sugar Minott,
Echospace,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Gories,
The Remains,
Jawbox,
Bush Tetras,
Porter Ricks,
Blancmange,
Quando Quango,
Hasil Adkins,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Misunderstood,
The Busters,
Youth Brigade,
Television Personalities,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Johnny Osbourne,
Yaz,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Todd Terry,
Metal Thangz,
the Soft Cell,
Sun City Girls,
Jesper Dahlback,
MC5,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rhythm & Sound,
Cymande,
Zero Boys,
Bobby Sherman,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Velvet Underground,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Vogues,
Saccharine Trust,
Joyce Sims,
Dead Boys,
Q and Not U,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.