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 Madagascar and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 organ 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 David Bowie to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Television Personalities,
Quantec,
Yusef Lateef,
Procol Harum,
Cybotron,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
MC5,
Slick Rick,
Lee Hazlewood,
Byron Stingily,
The Remains,
The Busters,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Surgeon,
The Saints,
Letta Mbulu,
The Star Department,
Patti Smith,
The Pop Group,
The Wake,
Max Romeo,
MDC,
Nick Fraelich,
Skarface,
The Divine Comedy,
Scott Walker,
Theoretical Girls,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
PIL,
The Sonics,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Angels of Light,
The Selecter,
the Fania All-Stars,
Can,
X-101,
Thee Headcoats,
FM Einheit,
Gabor Szabo,
LL Cool J,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Durutti Column,
The Tremeloes,
The Vogues,
Ultra Naté,
Unwound,
Underground Resistance,
The Cure,
Depeche Mode,
Sällskapet,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Invisible,
New Order,
Magazine,
Toni Rubio,
Junior Murvin,
Motorama,
The Fire Engines,
Bluetip,
kango's stein massive,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.