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 Spain and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Johnny Clarke to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lindisfarne,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Livin' Joy,
Jeff Lynne,
Panda Bear,
Terrestrial Tones,
Absolute Body Control,
The Gladiators,
Brand Nubian,
MDC,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kerri Chandler,
Young Marble Giants,
Con Funk Shun,
Sex Pistols,
Joyce Sims,
Lyres,
Unwound,
L. Decosne,
Rites of Spring,
ABC,
Barclay James Harvest,
Black Bananas,
Funkadelic,
Thee Headcoats,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Juan Atkins,
Deadbeat,
Pere Ubu,
Mission of Burma,
Little Man,
Iggy Pop,
Angry Samoans,
The Litter,
Tropical Tobacco,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Leonard Cohen,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Unrelated Segments,
The Cramps,
Avey Tare,
Eve St. Jones,
June of 44,
Mark Hollis,
Lebanon Hanover,
Joensuu 1685,
the Bar-Kays,
The Alarm Clocks,
Cameo,
Joe Finger,
Bootsy Collins,
The Monks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Doors,
The Remains,
The Zeros,
Dawn Penn,
Sun Ra,
John Lydon,
Icehouse,
Roger Hodgson,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.