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 Cuba and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 theremin 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the funk 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
The Toasters,
Tres Demented,
Ronnie Foster,
Reuben Wilson,
the Association,
Darondo,
Black Flag,
Morten Harket,
Pole,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Porter Ricks,
The Cramps,
The Grass Roots,
Glenn Branca,
Pagans,
The Buckinghams,
Fear,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Wire,
OOIOO,
JFA,
Slick Rick,
Joe Finger,
E-Dancer,
Bad Manners,
The Techniques,
Black Pus,
Infiniti,
Pierre Henry,
The Gap Band,
Bluetip,
Sex Pistols,
KRS-One,
Ice-T,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kool Moe Dee,
Visage,
the Bar-Kays,
Robert Hood,
The Divine Comedy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jesper Dahlback,
Stiv Bators,
Soft Machine,
Matthew Halsall,
Barry Ungar,
Vainqueur,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ludus,
Lyres,
Gang Starr,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Nick Fraelich,
A Flock of Seagulls,
ABBA,
Curtis Mayfield,
U.S. Maple,
Barbara Tucker,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.