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 Cape Verde and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 spring reverb 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 Hot Snakes to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harmonia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Cheater Slicks,
John Lydon,
Wings,
Amon Düül II,
Skriet,
Max Romeo,
Ten City,
The Seeds,
Tres Demented,
Terry Callier,
Amon Düül,
Roy Ayers,
The Toasters,
Altered Images,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Television,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dead Boys,
Ultimate Spinach,
Robert Hood,
The Gladiators,
Pussy Galore,
Stereo Dub,
The Sound,
The Mummies,
The Doors,
Echospace,
U.S. Maple,
Mr. Review,
Television Personalities,
The Tremeloes,
Niagra,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
New Order,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Saints,
Black Moon,
Kas Product,
The New Christs,
Gil Scott Heron,
Prince Buster,
the Human League,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ludus,
Sam Rivers,
The Grass Roots,
Wolf Eyes,
Todd Rundgren,
Black Flag,
Delta 5,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Black Dice,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sällskapet,
Swans,
Guru Guru,
Dawn Penn,
Soul II Soul,
the Soft Cell,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.