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 the UAE and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Soft Cell to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
Terrestrial Tones,
Todd Terry,
Lucky Dragons,
Brass Construction,
Jacques Brel,
Piero Umiliani,
Kas Product,
Dorothy Ashby,
Chris Corsano,
Susan Cadogan,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kerri Chandler,
June Days,
La Düsseldorf,
The Slackers,
The Stooges,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Metal Thangz,
48th St. Collective,
Nico,
Steve Hackett,
Symarip,
Sun City Girls,
Monks,
Magazine,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jeff Mills,
Saccharine Trust,
Patti Smith,
Second Layer,
Soft Cell,
The Count Five,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Eve St. Jones,
The Moleskins,
B.T. Express,
Man Parrish,
Fluxion,
Todd Rundgren,
the Germs,
In Retrospect,
Gang Green,
Mandrill,
Sarah Menescal,
Duran Duran,
Arthur Verocai,
John Holt,
Mark Hollis,
Black Pus,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sällskapet,
Eric Copeland,
Harry Pussy,
Erasure,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Whodini,
The Walker Brothers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Last Poets,
R.M.O.,
Darondo,
Alton Ellis,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.