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 Eritrea and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Johnny Clarke to the rock 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 Seeds. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras 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 chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Harmonia,
OOIOO,
Patti Smith,
X-102,
The Flesh Eaters,
Soulsonic Force,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Camberwell Now,
The American Breed,
Unwound,
China Crisis,
Mr. Review,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Subhumans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jeff Mills,
The Cure,
DJ Sneak,
The Cramps,
Brothers Johnson,
Dead Boys,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Smiths,
Panda Bear,
Wolf Eyes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
World's Most,
cv313,
The Litter,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Blackbyrds,
The Birthday Party,
Eurythmics,
Gang Starr,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Monochrome Set,
Marine Girls,
Pagans,
Suicide,
Kurtis Blow,
Fela Kuti,
Carl Craig,
Matthew Halsall,
The Electric Prunes,
The Fire Engines,
Ossler,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Germs,
Black Moon,
Curtis Mayfield,
Youth Brigade,
Yusef Lateef,
B.T. Express,
Junior Murvin,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pylon,
Liliput,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions.
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.