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 Angola and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 clarinet 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 Mo-Dettes to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neu! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roger Hodgson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minny Pops,
The Pretty Things,
Big Daddy Kane,
Basic Channel,
Icehouse,
Echospace,
Radiohead,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
H. Thieme,
Interpol,
X-Ray Spex,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jawbox,
Eve St. Jones,
Television Personalities,
OOIOO,
Mary Jane Girls,
Johnny Osbourne,
Black Sheep,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Tres Demented,
Neu!,
Loose Ends,
Hoover,
Kaleidoscope,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
CMW,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Association,
Neil Young,
FM Einheit,
John Holt,
Angry Samoans,
Panda Bear,
Danielle Patucci,
The Raincoats,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Music Machine,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lungfish,
The Young Rascals,
Pussy Galore,
10cc,
Accadde A,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Amazonics,
The Searchers,
Funky Four + One,
Scan 7,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Andrew Hill,
Moss Icon,
Warren Ellis,
DJ Style,
Bill Near,
Hot Snakes,
David Axelrod,
Fatback Band,
Cluster,
David Bowie,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.