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 Kyrgyzstan and from Johannesburg.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Minny Pops to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
K-Klass,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nirvana,
Sällskapet,
The Pretty Things,
Magma,
Bronski Beat,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lalann,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Black Pus,
Cal Tjader,
X-101,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Andrew Hill,
kango's stein massive,
Patti Smith,
Soft Machine,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Busters,
Panda Bear,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
T.S.O.L.,
cv313,
Metal Thangz,
Deadbeat,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Glenn Branca,
Ken Boothe,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Alton Ellis,
David McCallum,
Fela Kuti,
Bluetip,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rites of Spring,
Kas Product,
Sun Ra,
Boredoms,
Don Cherry,
Kool Moe Dee,
Roger Hodgson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Organ,
The Modern Lovers,
The Dirtbombs,
Infiniti,
Kayak,
Isaac Hayes,
Kurtis Blow,
Technova,
Avey Tare,
Henry Cow,
The Techniques,
MDC,
Throbbing Gristle,
Crash Course in Science,
Vainqueur,
The Kinks,
Duran Duran,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.