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 Botswana and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Portland.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Glenn Branca to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hardrive 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
Bobby Womack,
Liliput,
The Fire Engines,
Pere Ubu,
Glenn Branca,
Scratch Acid,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Technova,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Birthday Party,
Drive Like Jehu,
Goldenarms,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Nik Kershaw,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
ABBA,
Fela Kuti,
E-Dancer,
The Invisible,
Tom Boy,
Heaven 17,
Livin' Joy,
Henry Cow,
Johnny Clarke,
Eddi Front,
Basic Channel,
The Cramps,
Masters at Work,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gang Starr,
Dead Boys,
The Happenings,
Ken Boothe,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Don Cherry,
Nas,
Kas Product,
The Gladiators,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Misunderstood,
U.S. Maple,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Thee Headcoats,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ultravox,
The Monks,
Chris & Cosey,
The Stooges,
48th St. Collective,
Royal Trux,
Flash Fearless,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Walker Brothers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ten City,
the Human League,
Absolute Body Control,
Delta 5,
The Seeds,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.