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 Samoa and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 synthesizer 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 Oblivians to the punk 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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Minor Threat,
Joe Finger,
K-Klass,
Lou Reed,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mandrill,
the Human League,
Tears for Fears,
Bobbi Humphrey,
PIL,
The Searchers,
The Buckinghams,
B.T. Express,
Fat Boys,
The Techniques,
Altered Images,
Sun Ra,
Erykah Badu,
Qualms,
Matthew Halsall,
Index,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Skarface,
The Count Five,
Surgeon,
Wings,
The Skatalites,
The Human League,
The Dirtbombs,
The Mummies,
Oneida,
Pantaleimon,
Khruangbin,
The Doobie Brothers,
Subhumans,
Fatback Band,
Wasted Youth,
Gang of Four,
The Trojans,
Fela Kuti,
Ronan,
Marshall Jefferson,
Dave Gahan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Scan 7,
Susan Cadogan,
Bizarre Inc.,
Joyce Sims,
The Leaves,
Tommy Roe,
Simply Red,
Model 500,
Groovy Waters,
The Flesh Eaters,
Aaron Thompson,
Junior Murvin,
Lebanon Hanover,
Marvin Gaye,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Sonics,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.