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 Slovenia and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Michael McDonald 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 Saints to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Vainqueur,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ludus,
Jandek,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jacques Brel,
Sex Pistols,
Wolf Eyes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Derrick Morgan,
Alton Ellis,
Lou Christie,
Sun City Girls,
Mr. Review,
Radiohead,
Eddi Front,
Tears for Fears,
Andrew Hill,
Infiniti,
Robert Hood,
The Real Kids,
Franke,
Harmonia,
Ken Boothe,
Aloha Tigers,
Marvin Gaye,
Wire,
Cybotron,
Matthew Halsall,
June Days,
the Sonics,
The Cure,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Model 500,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Moebius,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Steve Hackett,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Echospace,
Oblivians,
The New Christs,
Delon & Dalcan,
Deakin,
Thompson Twins,
Funky Four + One,
Camouflage,
Arcadia,
The Divine Comedy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Cabaret Voltaire,
48th St. Collective,
Swell Maps,
Patti Smith,
Eve St. Jones,
Massinfluence,
Cameo,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.