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 Ukraine and from Calgary.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Woodstock.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Boredoms to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Normal. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
The Tremeloes,
Parry Music,
Pole,
Stiv Bators,
Skarface,
Index,
Pussy Galore,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Marvin Gaye,
Hardrive,
Malaria!,
Outsiders,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Residents,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Average White Band,
The Leaves,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Eurythmics,
the Sonics,
Aswad,
Lee Hazlewood,
Faraquet,
Sound Behaviour,
Connie Case,
Nas,
Alton Ellis,
Motorama,
Ornette Coleman,
The Electric Prunes,
CMW,
Jawbox,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Names,
UT,
Judy Mowatt,
Patti Smith,
The Velvet Underground,
Juan Atkins,
Jandek,
Half Japanese,
Skaos,
H. Thieme,
Blake Baxter,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jacques Brel,
the Slits,
Lalann,
The Stooges,
Chrome,
Ten City,
E-Dancer,
Kayak,
Amazonics,
Hot Snakes,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
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.