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 Nicaragua and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Seoul.
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 1978 at the first Visage 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 MDC to the rock 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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
Stiv Bators,
Donald Byrd,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rekid,
The Gun Club,
Robert Hood,
Dual Sessions,
U.S. Maple,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Oneida,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
B.T. Express,
Colin Newman,
The Skatalites,
The Electric Prunes,
Whodini,
The Gories,
Arab on Radar,
Joy Division,
Cecil Taylor,
John Foxx,
The Offenders,
Marvin Gaye,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bauhaus,
Lebanon Hanover,
Chrome,
Mo-Dettes,
Cameo,
the Fania All-Stars,
Anthony Braxton,
Alton Ellis,
Bob Dylan,
Mantronix,
Juan Atkins,
Wasted Youth,
Thompson Twins,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Chris & Cosey,
Intrusion,
Michelle Simonal,
Dennis Brown,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Smog,
Robert Görl,
Warsaw,
Con Funk Shun,
Rapeman,
Bill Near,
John Holt,
The Sound,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Smiths,
Kayak,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Stooges,
Anakelly,
Organ,
Freddie Wadling,
Ossler,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.