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 Grenada and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Toronto.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Nico to the grunge 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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Blossom Toes,
Brand Nubian,
Ponytail,
Rapeman,
The Motions,
The Moody Blues,
Mo-Dettes,
The Raincoats,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Fania All-Stars,
Letta Mbulu,
the Slits,
Chris Corsano,
Crash Course in Science,
John Lydon,
Moss Icon,
Subhumans,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bill Wells,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Star Department,
Essential Logic,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Be Bop Deluxe,
JFA,
The Gun Club,
Glenn Branca,
Pantytec,
The Cramps,
Archie Shepp,
Black Moon,
The Grass Roots,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Crooked Eye,
Kayak,
Symarip,
Roxy Music,
Peter and Kerry,
K-Klass,
The Pop Group,
Bob Dylan,
Bronski Beat,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Modern Lovers,
Ornette Coleman,
Janne Schatter,
Ultravox,
Pylon,
Crime,
Mary Jane Girls,
Slave,
F. McDonald,
John Cale,
Dead Boys,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Bar-Kays,
Warren Ellis,
Tommy Roe,
Brass Construction,
Hasil Adkins,
Lungfish,
Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection.
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.