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 Russia and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 spring reverb 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 The Names to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
David McCallum,
AZ,
The Vogues,
Mantronix,
Marmalade,
Lalann,
Stetsasonic,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Misunderstood,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Moody Blues,
Sight & Sound,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Black Sheep,
Hasil Adkins,
The American Breed,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Darondo,
The New Christs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rekid,
Quando Quango,
Los Fastidios,
Oblivians,
Toni Rubio,
Youth Brigade,
The Moleskins,
Todd Rundgren,
June Days,
The Real Kids,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Isaac Hayes,
Minor Threat,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Half Japanese,
Audionom,
Television,
the Swans,
Desert Stars,
Graham Central Station,
Susan Cadogan,
Little Man,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Country Teasers,
Soulsonic Force,
Masters at Work,
Schoolly D,
These Immortal Souls,
Jandek,
Danielle Patucci,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Stooges,
Ossler,
Zapp,
Amon Düül II,
Harmonia,
Traffic Nightmare,
Motorama,
The Raincoats,
Anthony Braxton,
H. Thieme,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.