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 Nicaragua and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 organ 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Offenders. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mighty Diamonds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Flash Fearless,
David McCallum,
The Dirtbombs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Joey Negro,
Steve Hackett,
cv313,
Gang of Four,
Lower 48,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Traffic Nightmare,
Babytalk,
Pussy Galore,
Bob Dylan,
The Happenings,
The Wake,
Basic Channel,
Quadrant,
Groovy Waters,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Cure,
The Leaves,
The Fall,
China Crisis,
Sixth Finger,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Drexciya,
Thompson Twins,
OOIOO,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
A Certain Ratio,
Morten Harket,
the Normal,
Mr. Review,
Andrew Hill,
The Flesh Eaters,
F. McDonald,
Nik Kershaw,
Hoover,
Tim Buckley,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Dead C,
Black Bananas,
Fluxion,
Patti Smith,
A Flock of Seagulls,
John Lydon,
The Barracudas,
Bootsy Collins,
Metal Thangz,
Lakeside,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Electric Prunes,
Country Teasers,
Radiohead,
The Vogues,
Half Japanese,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.