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 Jamaica and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 synthesizer 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 Yazoo to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Blake Baxter,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Barbara Tucker,
Harpers Bizarre,
Danielle Patucci,
KRS-One,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Patti Smith,
The Wake,
Ronan,
Stiv Bators,
Japan,
Slick Rick,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Aswad,
The Fire Engines,
Crooked Eye,
The Skatalites,
Michelle Simonal,
Public Enemy,
The Buckinghams,
Whodini,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Throbbing Gristle,
Susan Cadogan,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Blackbyrds,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mary Jane Girls,
Royal Trux,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Outsiders,
Judy Mowatt,
Tropical Tobacco,
Excepter,
Model 500,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ultra Naté,
R.M.O.,
Technova,
A Flock of Seagulls,
X-102,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Cowsills,
Public Image Ltd.,
Mantronix,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Dead C,
Neil Young,
Archie Shepp,
Aloha Tigers,
Inner City,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Standells,
Fifty Foot Hose,
JFA,
B.T. Express,
The Neon Judgement,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.