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 Congo and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 mellotron 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MC5 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Mantronix,
L. Decosne,
John Coltrane,
Stiv Bators,
Schoolly D,
Donny Hathaway,
In Retrospect,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sixth Finger,
The Residents,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Birthday Party,
Thompson Twins,
Dual Sessions,
Marine Girls,
Ornette Coleman,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
U.S. Maple,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Surgeon,
Warsaw,
Joe Finger,
Soulsonic Force,
Swans,
Cheater Slicks,
The Offenders,
John Holt,
The Saints,
Susan Cadogan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Radiopuhelimet,
John Foxx,
The Black Dice,
B.T. Express,
Funky Four + One,
Kerrie Biddell,
Charles Mingus,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eve St. Jones,
Arcadia,
Deepchord,
Reuben Wilson,
La Düsseldorf,
the Soft Cell,
Althea and Donna,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Minutemen,
Morten Harket,
Eric Copeland,
Robert Görl,
Tim Buckley,
Crooked Eye,
Pantaleimon,
Cybotron,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Smog,
These Immortal Souls,
The Velvet Underground,
Bizarre Inc.,
The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs.
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.