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 Syria and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 guitar 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 Kurtis Blow to the electroclash 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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aaron Thompson,
Lindisfarne,
Funky Four + One,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Techniques,
Dawn Penn,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dorothy Ashby,
Henry Cow,
Porter Ricks,
Soft Machine,
Oneida,
Soulsonic Force,
Roxy Music,
Kayak,
The J.B.'s,
Anakelly,
New Order,
Slave,
Massinfluence,
Oblivians,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Eddi Front,
Pulsallama,
Scratch Acid,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wally Richardson,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gong,
Boogie Down Productions,
John Coltrane,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Schoolly D,
The Raincoats,
Donald Byrd,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Zero Boys,
Grey Daturas,
The Gun Club,
Skriet,
Smog,
Severed Heads,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Move,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Alison Limerick,
Dave Gahan,
Angry Samoans,
The Dirtbombs,
Aloha Tigers,
Don Cherry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Germs,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.