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 Bahrain and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 mellotron 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 Icehouse to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Bar-Kays,
Flipper,
Juan Atkins,
The Standells,
Duran Duran,
Iggy Pop,
Simply Red,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Faraquet,
The Flesh Eaters,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Real Kids,
Rapeman,
Grauzone,
Easy Going,
Unrelated Segments,
Altered Images,
the Swans,
Kevin Saunderson,
K-Klass,
F. McDonald,
Supertramp,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Slick Rick,
The Mummies,
Con Funk Shun,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
OOIOO,
Lucky Dragons,
T. Rex,
The Busters,
Sex Pistols,
David Axelrod,
Blake Baxter,
The Gap Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Japan,
Fela Kuti,
T.S.O.L.,
Junior Murvin,
Nation of Ulysses,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Skatalites,
The Detroit Cobras,
Davy DMX,
Public Enemy,
Reagan Youth,
The Trojans,
Stiv Bators,
Hot Snakes,
Silicon Teens,
Bill Wells,
the Human League,
The Neon Judgement,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.