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 Palau and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 arpeggiator 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 Mission of Burma to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Nico,
Panda Bear,
Soul II Soul,
Cameo,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ralphi Rosario,
Wasted Youth,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Offenders,
Max Romeo,
Camouflage,
Roy Ayers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sex Pistols,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Doors,
John Cale,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Harry Pussy,
Tubeway Army,
Symarip,
Danielle Patucci,
The Divine Comedy,
Skaos,
K-Klass,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pantaleimon,
Bill Near,
Chris Corsano,
Swans,
Section 25,
The Vogues,
Tim Buckley,
Con Funk Shun,
Cluster,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gang Starr,
Essential Logic,
Scan 7,
Blancmange,
John Lydon,
the Swans,
Piero Umiliani,
Mary Jane Girls,
Circle Jerks,
The Selecter,
Tom Boy,
Half Japanese,
Hashim,
EPMD,
Joy Division,
The Alarm Clocks,
Crash Course in Science,
Chrome,
The Dead C,
Morten Harket,
Japan,
The Moody Blues,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.