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 Lithuania and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 organ 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 Jesus and Mary Chain to the crunk 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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Icehouse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche 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 an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
The Gories,
Shoche,
Scan 7,
Sex Pistols,
Don Cherry,
The Star Department,
Minor Threat,
Ice-T,
Panda Bear,
Thee Headcoats,
Albert Ayler,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
John Foxx,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Move,
Black Moon,
Marshall Jefferson,
Minnie Riperton,
Dave Gahan,
Bobby Womack,
Public Image Ltd.,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lyres,
Icehouse,
Vainqueur,
Minny Pops,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Wasted Youth,
The Five Americans,
The Shadows of Knight,
Robert Görl,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Evens,
Patti Smith,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ultravox,
Howard Jones,
The Slackers,
Erasure,
Gichy Dan,
DJ Style,
Pere Ubu,
Easy Going,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Thompson Twins,
Goldenarms,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eric Dolphy,
KRS-One,
Terry Callier,
The United States of America,
Section 25,
Judy Mowatt,
Glenn Branca,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Deepchord,
Steve Hackett,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tears for Fears,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.