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 Comoros and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the grunge 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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
New Age Steppers,
The Saints,
F. McDonald,
PIL,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dave Gahan,
The Invisible,
The Monks,
Scott Walker,
Bobby Womack,
The Stooges,
Vladislav Delay,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Grauzone,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Slick Rick,
Half Japanese,
Lou Christie,
Soulsonic Force,
B.T. Express,
Vainqueur,
Peter & Gordon,
Intrusion,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Saccharine Trust,
Deadbeat,
Bad Manners,
Tropical Tobacco,
Godley & Creme,
Reuben Wilson,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rufus Thomas,
Eddi Front,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
KRS-One,
Dennis Brown,
Dead Boys,
Flamin' Groovies,
48th St. Collective,
Roxette,
The Young Rascals,
Barry Ungar,
The Monochrome Set,
Brass Construction,
The Leaves,
Ornette Coleman,
Can,
Roxy Music,
Marc Almond,
Ohio Players,
The Index,
Eric Copeland,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Seeds,
Gang Starr,
Negative Approach,
Silicon Teens,
Faust,
Electric Prunes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp.
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.