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 Nepal and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 rhodes 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 Lucky Dragons to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Hashim. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
Lakeside,
Los Fastidios,
Laurel Aitken,
Minny Pops,
The Slits,
Sound Behaviour,
Chris & Cosey,
Lyres,
Charles Mingus,
Suburban Knight,
Ice-T,
The Gories,
L. Decosne,
Eric Copeland,
Bob Dylan,
Stetsasonic,
The Cowsills,
Sister Nancy,
Shuggie Otis,
Sam Rivers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Dennis Brown,
Little Man,
Fat Boys,
Tres Demented,
Gil Scott Heron,
Joey Negro,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Barry Ungar,
Average White Band,
Lee Hazlewood,
Camberwell Now,
Outsiders,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dead Boys,
Drexciya,
The Star Department,
Faust,
Bush Tetras,
Main Source,
Gastr Del Sol,
Index,
Camouflage,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jeff Mills,
Pagans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Oblivians,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Wally Richardson,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
New Order,
Supertramp,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Soul II Soul,
The Barracudas,
The Five Americans,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
MC5,
8 Eyed Spy,
Warren Ellis,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.