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 Guinea-Bissau and from Seoul.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the guitar 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 Jeru the Damaja to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Guru Guru 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?
Traffic Nightmare,
Eric Copeland,
Boredoms,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rakim,
Bauhaus,
Darondo,
Mission of Burma,
Agent Orange,
Mo-Dettes,
OOIOO,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gang of Four,
Faraquet,
Bobby Womack,
kango's stein massive,
Guru Guru,
Hoover,
Basic Channel,
Aloha Tigers,
Reagan Youth,
Lightning Bolt,
Chrome,
The Cramps,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marc Almond,
Country Teasers,
The Zeros,
Bill Wells,
Ralphi Rosario,
Thompson Twins,
The Tremeloes,
Avey Tare,
Brand Nubian,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Charles Mingus,
Curtis Mayfield,
Skaos,
The Human League,
Suicide,
Motorama,
Magma,
Bluetip,
Youth Brigade,
Sight & Sound,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
10cc,
8 Eyed Spy,
AZ,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marvin Gaye,
Stetsasonic,
Goldenarms,
Crispy Ambulance,
Metal Thangz,
Main Source,
Crime,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.