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 Argentina and from Glasgow.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 mellotron 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 Crime to the techno 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 The Remains. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
These Immortal Souls,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ronnie Foster,
Bronski Beat,
Saccharine Trust,
The Raincoats,
Jeru the Damaja,
T.S.O.L.,
Lebanon Hanover,
Talk Talk,
Cymande,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Funkadelic,
Mo-Dettes,
Eden Ahbez,
Fear,
Monks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sam Rivers,
Crash Course in Science,
Hashim,
Kurtis Blow,
Tropical Tobacco,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Yazoo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Don Cherry,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gastr Del Sol,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Electric Prunes,
Judy Mowatt,
Newcleus,
Young Marble Giants,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Selecter,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Supertramp,
AZ,
Cecil Taylor,
MDC,
Outsiders,
Urselle,
Buzzcocks,
Avey Tare,
ABBA,
The Fortunes,
The Move,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bush Tetras,
Vladislav Delay,
The Mummies,
Wasted Youth,
FM Einheit,
Visage,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pole,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nirvana,
Scion,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.