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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Searchers. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jeff Lynne,
Siglo XX,
Mars,
Flash Fearless,
The Smoke,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Fortunes,
Tomorrow,
T.S.O.L.,
Davy DMX,
Eden Ahbez,
The Skatalites,
Technova,
Todd Rundgren,
Johnny Osbourne,
Roy Ayers,
The Slackers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Cramps,
Monolake,
Sparks,
The New Christs,
Sällskapet,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Beasts of Bourbon,
X-102,
Rakim,
Slick Rick,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Anthony Braxton,
The Happenings,
Altered Images,
Angry Samoans,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Warsaw,
Freddie Wadling,
The Grass Roots,
New York Dolls,
DJ Style,
Dead Boys,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ronnie Foster,
The Divine Comedy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scratch Acid,
Swell Maps,
These Immortal Souls,
Sound Behaviour,
Camouflage,
The Dead C,
Mr. Review,
The Angels of Light,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rites of Spring,
Andrew Hill,
Avey Tare,
Roxy Music,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.