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 Afghanistan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 808 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 OOIOO to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aswad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Hot Snakes,
Rufus Thomas,
Ponytail,
Slick Rick,
Vainqueur,
The Flesh Eaters,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Zeros,
Suicide,
MC5,
Brothers Johnson,
The Gories,
FM Einheit,
Con Funk Shun,
Minor Threat,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Mars,
The Young Rascals,
Tomorrow,
Country Teasers,
Royal Trux,
The Slits,
Popol Vuh,
CMW,
Duran Duran,
Organ,
The Mummies,
DJ Style,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marmalade,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Al Stewart,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Monochrome Set,
The Blackbyrds,
Monks,
Agitation Free,
Radiohead,
The Durutti Column,
Boredoms,
Throbbing Gristle,
Stiv Bators,
Kerrie Biddell,
Black Moon,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Dead C,
Kenny Larkin,
Roxette,
Pagans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Massinfluence,
John Holt,
Steve Hackett,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Bar-Kays,
Los Fastidios,
Susan Cadogan,
Tres Demented,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.