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 Barbados and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Maurizio to the disco 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 MDC. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bill Wells,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lalo Schifrin,
Section 25,
Adolescents,
Terrestrial Tones,
Patti Smith,
Faraquet,
The Durutti Column,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Harry Pussy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Red Krayola,
Neu!,
The Zeros,
Nation of Ulysses,
Trumans Water,
Pere Ubu,
Cymande,
John Cale,
Model 500,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Moleskins,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Neon Judgement,
B.T. Express,
the Germs,
Jeff Mills,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Moby Grape,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Donny Hathaway,
Interpol,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Matthew Halsall,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
H. Thieme,
The Human League,
The Stooges,
Idris Muhammad,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Underground Resistance,
The Real Kids,
Rufus Thomas,
The Grass Roots,
10cc,
Intrusion,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Pretty Things,
Make Up,
Wasted Youth,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Slits,
The Black Dice,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bobby Byrd,
Pierre Henry,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.