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 Antigua and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Selecter to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Frankie Knuckles,
Terrestrial Tones,
Schoolly D,
The Beau Brummels,
Arab on Radar,
Yusef Lateef,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Star Department,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Max Romeo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Sheep,
Robert Hood,
Lee Hazlewood,
Crash Course in Science,
Man Parrish,
Radiohead,
Ornette Coleman,
Royal Trux,
Tom Boy,
Gong,
Sonic Youth,
Joy Division,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mr. Review,
Marine Girls,
Interpol,
Scan 7,
Sound Behaviour,
T. Rex,
Supertramp,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Cymande,
10cc,
The Gladiators,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Gun Club,
Scratch Acid,
The Real Kids,
Rosa Yemen,
DJ Style,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Wake,
Agitation Free,
Erasure,
Gichy Dan,
Crooked Eye,
Tres Demented,
Goldenarms,
Judy Mowatt,
Dual Sessions,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Count Five,
Boz Scaggs,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Average White Band,
Pierre Henry,
The Birthday Party,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.