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 Ireland and from Lille.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Gastr Del Sol 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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues 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 '50s 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 Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Associates,
Alison Limerick,
Mission of Burma,
Severed Heads,
Max Romeo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
48th St. Collective,
Smog,
Ronnie Foster,
the Human League,
DNA,
Mo-Dettes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Fire Engines,
Faraquet,
The Gun Club,
The Slackers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
World's Most,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Harry Pussy,
The Names,
Nirvana,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pagans,
The Human League,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Maleditus Sound,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bush Tetras,
The Saints,
Thee Headcoats,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Motions,
Electric Prunes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jeru the Damaja,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
David McCallum,
Wire,
Minnie Riperton,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gang of Four,
Brothers Johnson,
Pere Ubu,
The Neon Judgement,
ABBA,
Silicon Teens,
a-ha,
Amon Düül II,
Duran Duran,
Trumans Water,
Jerry's Kids,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.