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 India and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Rekid 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
The Pop Group,
Arab on Radar,
Magazine,
Pussy Galore,
Slave,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Reagan Youth,
Magma,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sexual Harrassment,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pylon,
Bauhaus,
Fear,
Franke,
June Days,
Heaven 17,
Japan,
New Age Steppers,
Dawn Penn,
F. McDonald,
Sugar Minott,
UT,
Jesper Dahlback,
Arthur Verocai,
Maleditus Sound,
Pantaleimon,
Andrew Hill,
Accadde A,
Warsaw,
The Offenders,
Banda Bassotti,
Sparks,
The Monks,
The Pretty Things,
The Evens,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Techniques,
Absolute Body Control,
World's Most,
The Fugs,
Blancmange,
Kayak,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Mission of Burma,
Cybotron,
John Holt,
Henry Cow,
The Shadows of Knight,
the Sonics,
Deakin,
Section 25,
The Searchers,
Chrome,
Easy Going,
Flamin' Groovies,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gichy Dan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Max Romeo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart.
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.