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 Italy and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Althea and Donna to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tommy Roe,
The Durutti Column,
Deadbeat,
Ice-T,
Public Image Ltd.,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bill Near,
The Misunderstood,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tom Boy,
Max Romeo,
the Germs,
New York Dolls,
Young Marble Giants,
48th St. Collective,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Moleskins,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Swans,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lower 48,
The Zeros,
Babytalk,
Ohio Players,
Arab on Radar,
Thee Headcoats,
Mo-Dettes,
Patti Smith,
Pole,
New Age Steppers,
8 Eyed Spy,
H. Thieme,
June Days,
The New Christs,
Mission of Burma,
Groovy Waters,
Sight & Sound,
Subhumans,
Siglo XX,
Television,
Howard Jones,
Bobbi Humphrey,
JFA,
The Busters,
Bill Wells,
Skarface,
EPMD,
The Mummies,
Grauzone,
Hot Snakes,
Amon Düül II,
Peter and Kerry,
The Associates,
Kenny Larkin,
Radiohead,
Pussy Galore,
Joyce Sims,
Bobby Sherman,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.