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 Papua New Guinea and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 chamberlin 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 Black Pus to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cluster,
Lindisfarne,
Grauzone,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sarah Menescal,
Clear Light,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Barry Ungar,
David Bowie,
Black Flag,
F. McDonald,
the Germs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
the Bar-Kays,
Suicide,
Crispian St. Peters,
Procol Harum,
Underground Resistance,
Panda Bear,
Cal Tjader,
Television Personalities,
Ohio Players,
Monks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ludus,
Bob Dylan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Porter Ricks,
Echospace,
Sugar Minott,
Tim Buckley,
Mark Hollis,
Vladislav Delay,
Camberwell Now,
Jerry's Kids,
U.S. Maple,
Can,
The Pretty Things,
The Toasters,
John Holt,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Saints,
The Selecter,
Rakim,
James White and The Blacks,
Thee Headcoats,
Chris & Cosey,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Beau Brummels,
Outsiders,
Babytalk,
Agent Orange,
Joe Finger,
The Happenings,
Black Pus,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
E-Dancer,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.