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 Serbia and from Mexico City.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Shanghai.
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 chamberlin 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 Erykah Badu to the disco 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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marc Almond,
Symarip,
The Index,
The Walker Brothers,
Simply Red,
Terrestrial Tones,
Anthony Braxton,
L. Decosne,
U.S. Maple,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mantronix,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Black Moon,
E-Dancer,
Crime,
Flamin' Groovies,
One Last Wish,
DNA,
Youth Brigade,
MC5,
Quantec,
Oneida,
Flash Fearless,
The Leaves,
Liliput,
Fatback Band,
the Sonics,
Johnny Osbourne,
John Foxx,
The Dead C,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Joe Smooth,
Dead Boys,
Thompson Twins,
Y Pants,
Vainqueur,
The Slackers,
Eric Dolphy,
T. Rex,
In Retrospect,
Black Flag,
Jerry's Kids,
Altered Images,
The Kinks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lalann,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Dirtbombs,
Dark Day,
Unwound,
Bobby Byrd,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Neu!,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Toasters,
Sixth Finger,
Essential Logic,
Harry Pussy,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Soft Cell,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.