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 Guatemala and from Woodstock.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and New York.
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 arpeggiator 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 The Blues Magoos to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Technova record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Donny Hathaway,
Toni Rubio,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Aaron Thompson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jandek,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
T. Rex,
Excepter,
a-ha,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Victims,
The Zeros,
Supertramp,
Black Pus,
Bobby Womack,
Country Teasers,
Buzzcocks,
Joensuu 1685,
Magma,
Loose Ends,
Scion,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Funkadelic,
Dead Boys,
Sparks,
Ice-T,
LL Cool J,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Subhumans,
Pulsallama,
Wasted Youth,
U.S. Maple,
Index,
the Human League,
EPMD,
Clear Light,
Alice Coltrane,
The Toasters,
The Trojans,
Flash Fearless,
Scientists,
Prince Buster,
Tres Demented,
The Smoke,
Motorama,
Susan Cadogan,
Tubeway Army,
Derrick May,
Mad Mike,
Minny Pops,
Archie Shepp,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Knickerbockers,
The Walker Brothers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Fluxion,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Section 25,
Gang Green,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.