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 Romania and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 guitar 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Barclay James Harvest,
Terry Callier,
Sun Ra,
These Immortal Souls,
Public Enemy,
Con Funk Shun,
Whodini,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Graham Central Station,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sugar Minott,
Jeff Lynne,
Ralphi Rosario,
Accadde A,
Radiohead,
Brick,
Cluster,
Los Fastidios,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Techniques,
Negative Approach,
Rod Modell,
The Star Department,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Slave,
the Soft Cell,
X-102,
The Leaves,
The Gun Club,
48th St. Collective,
Darondo,
Jawbox,
Archie Shepp,
F. McDonald,
One Last Wish,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bad Manners,
Qualms,
Monks,
Piero Umiliani,
The Fortunes,
The Doors,
The Tremeloes,
Robert Görl,
CMW,
Ice-T,
The Gap Band,
Junior Murvin,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Toasters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lower 48,
The Names,
Niagra,
Erasure,
Infiniti,
Bootsy Collins,
In Retrospect,
Glenn Branca,
DJ Style,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.