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 Afghanistan and from Taipei.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Glasgow.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fire Engines to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Von Mondo,
The Vogues,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Throbbing Gristle,
New Order,
Silicon Teens,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Beau Brummels,
Crispy Ambulance,
Charles Mingus,
The Searchers,
Sonic Youth,
Harry Pussy,
Brick,
Bill Near,
Excepter,
Graham Central Station,
Icehouse,
Fatback Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Grass Roots,
Rhythm & Sound,
Hot Snakes,
The Gories,
Das Ding,
Sandy B,
Grey Daturas,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Reuben Wilson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Blackbyrds,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Knickerbockers,
Newcleus,
Magazine,
Cal Tjader,
Yaz,
Crime,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rekid,
Thee Headcoats,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
PIL,
Blancmange,
The Wake,
The Doobie Brothers,
Infiniti,
Letta Mbulu,
Bobby Byrd,
Tomorrow,
T. Rex,
Minutemen,
Nik Kershaw,
Cluster,
David McCallum,
John Holt,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Liliput,
A Certain Ratio,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Alphaville,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.