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 India and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 clarinet 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 Television Personalities to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Rufus Thomas,
Rotary Connection,
the Sonics,
Harmonia,
The Modern Lovers,
Amon Düül,
Bad Manners,
B.T. Express,
Slave,
Smog,
Davy DMX,
Altered Images,
Agent Orange,
The Fire Engines,
Essential Logic,
Theoretical Girls,
Monks,
a-ha,
Young Marble Giants,
John Cale,
Talk Talk,
David Bowie,
John Holt,
Thee Headcoats,
The Selecter,
Pantytec,
Groovy Waters,
Duran Duran,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Five Americans,
Goldenarms,
Jeff Mills,
Traffic Nightmare,
Clear Light,
The Fuzztones,
Electric Prunes,
The Busters,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sight & Sound,
Rosa Yemen,
Brand Nubian,
Gang of Four,
cv313,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Quadrant,
New York Dolls,
Japan,
Eve St. Jones,
The Human League,
Scratch Acid,
Marvin Gaye,
Whodini,
Max Romeo,
Fluxion,
Chrome,
Toni Rubio,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cecil Taylor,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Al Stewart,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.