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 Morocco and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 David Bowie 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 Tubeway Army to the electroclash 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Magazine,
The Evens,
Bronski Beat,
Reagan Youth,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bush Tetras,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Soft Cell,
Pylon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Organ,
Rod Modell,
Make Up,
The Residents,
Terry Callier,
Ultravox,
A Certain Ratio,
Tropical Tobacco,
Harpers Bizarre,
Brick,
Funkadelic,
Zapp,
Terrestrial Tones,
Monolake,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sonic Youth,
Goldenarms,
Amazonics,
Stereo Dub,
X-102,
Con Funk Shun,
Zero Boys,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Henry Cow,
K-Klass,
Basic Channel,
Amon Düül,
Groovy Waters,
New York Dolls,
Soft Cell,
The Motions,
Flipper,
the Normal,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Dennis Brown,
The Modern Lovers,
The Young Rascals,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Mojo Men,
Newcleus,
KRS-One,
Cluster,
Susan Cadogan,
8 Eyed Spy,
Los Fastidios,
Television,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.