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 Maldives and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Paris.
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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
Moby Grape,
The Flesh Eaters,
Spoonie Gee,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scrapy,
The Cure,
The Selecter,
The Litter,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Brass Construction,
Henry Cow,
Glenn Branca,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gang Green,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Neon Judgement,
Jerry's Kids,
The Electric Prunes,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Sonics,
Youth Brigade,
Shoche,
Circle Jerks,
Juan Atkins,
Albert Ayler,
The Seeds,
The Real Kids,
Isaac Hayes,
Rites of Spring,
Aswad,
Bronski Beat,
Malaria!,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Godley & Creme,
Hasil Adkins,
Brothers Johnson,
The Slits,
Sällskapet,
Flash Fearless,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Dual Sessions,
June Days,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
PIL,
Ten City,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Livin' Joy,
The Trojans,
Boredoms,
Babytalk,
the Swans,
Surgeon,
Harpers Bizarre,
Moebius,
Blossom Toes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Alphaville,
The Mojo Men,
Soft Cell,
Model 500,
The Sound,
the Association,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.