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 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Byron Stingily to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
Theoretical Girls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kerri Chandler,
The Red Krayola,
Joey Negro,
Ronan,
Bronski Beat,
Flipper,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Intrusion,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Robert Görl,
F. McDonald,
Urselle,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Average White Band,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Newcleus,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dark Day,
Con Funk Shun,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
FM Einheit,
Icehouse,
Lindisfarne,
Bang On A Can,
Hashim,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Blackbyrds,
Nas,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Detroit Cobras,
Buzzcocks,
Kas Product,
Rosa Yemen,
Agent Orange,
The Move,
Silicon Teens,
Moby Grape,
Camouflage,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sixth Finger,
Crooked Eye,
The Cramps,
the Bar-Kays,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Tommy Roe,
The Index,
the Sonics,
The Mummies,
The Pretty Things,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Swell Maps,
Susan Cadogan,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.