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 France and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 harpsichord 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 Slits to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Girls At Our Best!,
K-Klass,
The Victims,
Marc Almond,
Boredoms,
Interpol,
Brothers Johnson,
The Toasters,
Altered Images,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Deakin,
Grauzone,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gong,
The Names,
Charles Mingus,
Section 25,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Connie Case,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
EPMD,
Scrapy,
Darondo,
Todd Rundgren,
Chrome,
Siglo XX,
The Sound,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fatback Band,
Young Marble Giants,
Sonic Youth,
Soul II Soul,
Magazine,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Big Daddy Kane,
Arcadia,
Wolf Eyes,
Tim Buckley,
Fela Kuti,
Boogie Down Productions,
The American Breed,
Warsaw,
Sparks,
Suburban Knight,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nils Olav,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Knickerbockers,
Morten Harket,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Vogues,
Lalann,
Dorothy Ashby,
Massinfluence,
Lee Hazlewood,
Scion,
Radiohead,
This Heat,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Alice Coltrane,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.