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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 John Lydon to the dance 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 Flash Fearless. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Von Mondo,
Basic Channel,
the Germs,
Hashim,
Marcia Griffiths,
Crooked Eye,
Essential Logic,
Nick Fraelich,
Pole,
Moss Icon,
One Last Wish,
Matthew Bourne,
Bill Wells,
Ornette Coleman,
Panda Bear,
Sexual Harrassment,
A Certain Ratio,
Eve St. Jones,
Bush Tetras,
Cymande,
Smog,
Bobby Sherman,
Ten City,
UT,
John Holt,
KRS-One,
Interpol,
The Beau Brummels,
New York Dolls,
Big Daddy Kane,
Banda Bassotti,
Joe Finger,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Unrelated Segments,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Maleditus Sound,
Fugazi,
John Lydon,
Gichy Dan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rotary Connection,
Tears for Fears,
Iggy Pop,
Tres Demented,
Terry Callier,
DNA,
Johnny Osbourne,
Crispy Ambulance,
Colin Newman,
Fatback Band,
MC5,
Index,
Throbbing Gristle,
In Retrospect,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eric Dolphy,
Underground Resistance,
ABBA,
The Durutti Column,
Mark Hollis,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.