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 Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Evens to the funk 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 Oneida. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Sonics,
Bauhaus,
Lungfish,
The Walker Brothers,
Monks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Vainqueur,
Main Source,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Move,
Intrusion,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Dorothy Ashby,
Reagan Youth,
Dark Day,
Bobby Byrd,
Aloha Tigers,
Joey Negro,
Fat Boys,
The Gap Band,
The Wake,
Fatback Band,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Red Krayola,
Marine Girls,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fugazi,
Parry Music,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Cowsills,
The Blackbyrds,
Marvin Gaye,
Oblivians,
Eli Mardock,
Gerry Rafferty,
Donald Byrd,
Bootsy Collins,
Gregory Isaacs,
Talk Talk,
Max Romeo,
Oneida,
Dennis Brown,
Roger Hodgson,
Marmalade,
Minor Threat,
Reuben Wilson,
CMW,
Public Enemy,
Rufus Thomas,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Brass Construction,
Lakeside,
Aswad,
The Happenings,
Khruangbin,
Dave Gahan,
Joyce Sims,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.