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 Djibouti 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
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 Basic Channel to the rap 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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Cameo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Young Rascals,
Eli Mardock,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Busters,
JFA,
Harmonia,
Blossom Toes,
Camouflage,
David McCallum,
James White and The Blacks,
The Golliwogs,
Albert Ayler,
Babytalk,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gang Starr,
The Monks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Vladislav Delay,
The Velvet Underground,
Alphaville,
Black Moon,
Anakelly,
The New Christs,
the Fania All-Stars,
10cc,
Unrelated Segments,
Excepter,
Crime,
Mandrill,
Jandek,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Roger Hodgson,
Wasted Youth,
Skaos,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Radiopuhelimet,
Byron Stingily,
Man Parrish,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Mantronix,
Joe Finger,
Metal Thangz,
Girls At Our Best!,
Von Mondo,
Angry Samoans,
Masters at Work,
Harry Pussy,
DJ Sneak,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Aaron Thompson,
Darondo,
EPMD,
Toni Rubio,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Dave Clark Five,
the Germs,
UT,
Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis.
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.