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 Ghana and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 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 The Victims to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Joensuu 1685. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Erasure,
Chris & Cosey,
The Raincoats,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cluster,
Los Fastidios,
The Fall,
David McCallum,
Gichy Dan,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Goldenarms,
Eli Mardock,
Tres Demented,
Chrome,
Matthew Bourne,
New York Dolls,
Marshall Jefferson,
Angry Samoans,
Bush Tetras,
Delon & Dalcan,
Monks,
Radiohead,
Unrelated Segments,
The Dirtbombs,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Slits,
Joey Negro,
Ronnie Foster,
The Fugs,
Zapp,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Public Enemy,
Joyce Sims,
The Pretty Things,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Walker Brothers,
T. Rex,
The Vogues,
The Zeros,
Symarip,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Stetsasonic,
Silicon Teens,
Heaven 17,
Camouflage,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Misunderstood,
Alice Coltrane,
Aswad,
DJ Style,
the Germs,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Index,
Tommy Roe,
The Offenders,
Y Pants,
Archie Shepp,
The Victims,
Television,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.