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 Guyana and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Knickerbockers to the rock 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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Stetsasonic,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Infiniti,
The Blues Magoos,
Amon Düül,
The Golliwogs,
The Black Dice,
Amazonics,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Desert Stars,
The Kinks,
Goldenarms,
Nico,
The Neon Judgement,
Harpers Bizarre,
Johnny Clarke,
Radiopuhelimet,
Barbara Tucker,
Boogie Down Productions,
Eli Mardock,
The Saints,
The Knickerbockers,
The Sonics,
Absolute Body Control,
MDC,
Don Cherry,
Scratch Acid,
Loose Ends,
Jandek,
Marshall Jefferson,
MC5,
Yellowson,
Pantaleimon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Dead C,
Talk Talk,
Magma,
These Immortal Souls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Radiohead,
Livin' Joy,
The Fire Engines,
Urselle,
World's Most,
Motorama,
Ossler,
Procol Harum,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Steve Hackett,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Moby Grape,
Josef K,
Das Ding,
Rapeman,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.