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 Andorra and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 synthesizer 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 Bobby Byrd to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
The Golliwogs,
Radio Birdman,
Joy Division,
Stiv Bators,
Ice-T,
Lyres,
David Bowie,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Dead C,
Saccharine Trust,
Glenn Branca,
The Raincoats,
Ronnie Foster,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Hot Snakes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Eddi Front,
The Tremeloes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Robert Wyatt,
The Red Krayola,
Hoover,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Duran Duran,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Mojo Men,
Brand Nubian,
R.M.O.,
Television,
Sex Pistols,
Subhumans,
Rites of Spring,
Amon Düül II,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Yaz,
Mark Hollis,
Quando Quango,
Minnie Riperton,
Bush Tetras,
This Heat,
Susan Cadogan,
The Move,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Monochrome Set,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Young Rascals,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Fire Engines,
Bang On A Can,
Dawn Penn,
Fad Gadget,
Gang Starr,
Deadbeat,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.