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 Yemen and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 spring reverb 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
The Offenders,
Saccharine Trust,
Simply Red,
Mr. Review,
Funky Four + One,
Lungfish,
Supertramp,
Gang Green,
Flipper,
Swell Maps,
The Move,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Knickerbockers,
Gang of Four,
The Fuzztones,
Letta Mbulu,
Donny Hathaway,
Marmalade,
Laurel Aitken,
Marc Almond,
Moebius,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Parry Music,
Marine Girls,
Lucky Dragons,
The Divine Comedy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Fall,
FM Einheit,
Groovy Waters,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Cosmic Jokers,
K-Klass,
Fluxion,
The Sound,
Quadrant,
New York Dolls,
Robert Hood,
The Doobie Brothers,
JFA,
Dave Gahan,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lyres,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Pretty Things,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Durutti Column,
Howard Jones,
Nirvana,
Harpers Bizarre,
Grey Daturas,
Unwound,
Interpol,
Bill Wells,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Brothers Johnson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kool Moe Dee,
Patti Smith,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.