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 Seychelles and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 B.T. Express to the electroclash 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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Au Pairs,
The Slits,
Whodini,
Little Man,
Scott Walker,
Drexciya,
Al Stewart,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Normal,
Marine Girls,
Monolake,
Buzzcocks,
KRS-One,
Iggy Pop,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crash Course in Science,
The Gun Club,
Letta Mbulu,
Television,
Ice-T,
The Busters,
Rotary Connection,
Minor Threat,
U.S. Maple,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ituana,
Ultra Naté,
John Foxx,
Sound Behaviour,
A Certain Ratio,
The Pop Group,
The Neon Judgement,
New Age Steppers,
The Techniques,
Barrington Levy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Clear Light,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Charles Mingus,
Graham Central Station,
Bang On A Can,
Smog,
Jimmy McGriff,
Joey Negro,
Sarah Menescal,
Tres Demented,
Fluxion,
Byron Stingily,
The Black Dice,
The Seeds,
F. McDonald,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Can,
The Flesh Eaters,
Motorama,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
John Lydon,
Bob Dylan,
Curtis Mayfield,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tomorrow,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.