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 Japan and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 marimba 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 Altered Images to the disco 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 The Index. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Duran Duran,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Flesh Eaters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ohio Players,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Parry Music,
Aloha Tigers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Das Ding,
LL Cool J,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bad Manners,
Minny Pops,
John Holt,
Skaos,
Jawbox,
U.S. Maple,
Yellowson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Flamin' Groovies,
Inner City,
Section 25,
The Dead C,
Erykah Badu,
K-Klass,
Simply Red,
Altered Images,
Ossler,
Radiohead,
The Red Krayola,
Amazonics,
The Vogues,
Althea and Donna,
Infiniti,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jacques Brel,
The Monochrome Set,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ultravox,
The Modern Lovers,
Dennis Brown,
Mantronix,
Stockholm Monsters,
Barry Ungar,
Can,
The Trojans,
Deepchord,
The Count Five,
Q and Not U,
Youth Brigade,
Vladislav Delay,
B.T. Express,
John Coltrane,
Porter Ricks,
Radio Birdman,
Talk Talk,
Lebanon Hanover,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.