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 Japan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Fear to the electroclash 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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q65 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Sparks,
The Angels of Light,
Popol Vuh,
Barry Ungar,
The Tremeloes,
Hasil Adkins,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Monks,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Monochrome Set,
Half Japanese,
Marc Almond,
Charles Mingus,
Aswad,
Pussy Galore,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lebanon Hanover,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ralphi Rosario,
Buzzcocks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Delon & Dalcan,
Pagans,
Henry Cow,
Unwound,
L. Decosne,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
JFA,
Sexual Harrassment,
Agitation Free,
Rekid,
Magma,
Lucky Dragons,
Pere Ubu,
Mad Mike,
Sight & Sound,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nik Kershaw,
Byron Stingily,
Brick,
The Golliwogs,
Kurtis Blow,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kenny Larkin,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lyres,
Jacob Miller,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Fire Engines,
Mantronix,
The Doors,
Pylon,
Sun Ra,
Blossom Toes,
Rapeman,
Throbbing Gristle,
Reuben Wilson,
June Days,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.