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 Hungary and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
The Velvet Underground,
Dawn Penn,
The Misunderstood,
Television,
The Victims,
Niagra,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ronan,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kenny Larkin,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nick Fraelich,
The Fuzztones,
Slave,
Drexciya,
Chris & Cosey,
Section 25,
One Last Wish,
The Monks,
Kevin Saunderson,
D'Angelo,
The Selecter,
Black Moon,
Kurtis Blow,
The Walker Brothers,
Henry Cow,
Pulsallama,
Laurel Aitken,
The Tremeloes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
New York Dolls,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Severed Heads,
Matthew Halsall,
Kayak,
Tres Demented,
These Immortal Souls,
Lalann,
Stiv Bators,
T.S.O.L.,
Girls At Our Best!,
Soul II Soul,
Sound Behaviour,
Godley & Creme,
Junior Murvin,
Prince Buster,
Brothers Johnson,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Masters at Work,
Public Image Ltd.,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
MDC,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lou Christie,
The Cowsills,
Gong,
Jimmy McGriff,
Black Bananas,
Basic Channel,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.