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 Comoros and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 snare 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 Infiniti to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Scratch Acid,
The Gladiators,
Parry Music,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Shoche,
Audionom,
Motorama,
Suburban Knight,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Goldenarms,
Duran Duran,
David Bowie,
These Immortal Souls,
Pantaleimon,
Au Pairs,
The Grass Roots,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Black Moon,
Sarah Menescal,
Heaven 17,
The Tremeloes,
The Beau Brummels,
Masters at Work,
Black Flag,
Technova,
R.M.O.,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Von Mondo,
Ultra Naté,
Susan Cadogan,
Young Marble Giants,
Excepter,
Rufus Thomas,
The Doobie Brothers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Icehouse,
Unwound,
The Wake,
The Gories,
Crooked Eye,
The Techniques,
Crispian St. Peters,
Main Source,
F. McDonald,
The Associates,
Godley & Creme,
The Smiths,
Warsaw,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Scan 7,
Anakelly,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The American Breed,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Busters,
Albert Ayler,
Joey Negro,
Black Pus,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Vogues,
B.T. Express,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.