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 Mozambique and from Milan.
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 Lyon and Lagos.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Susan Cadogan to the punk 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 Joe Smooth. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
the Association,
Sun Ra,
LL Cool J,
Brick,
Flash Fearless,
The Gladiators,
Harry Pussy,
Don Cherry,
Masters at Work,
Faraquet,
John Foxx,
Television,
Lalann,
Mark Hollis,
Theoretical Girls,
Pulsallama,
Smog,
The Kinks,
Ultravox,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Half Japanese,
Magazine,
Kerri Chandler,
Prince Buster,
D'Angelo,
Soft Machine,
Suburban Knight,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Outsiders,
Crooked Eye,
Marcia Griffiths,
Barbara Tucker,
Television Personalities,
Audionom,
Funkadelic,
Soft Cell,
Infiniti,
Chrome,
Young Marble Giants,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Derrick Morgan,
June Days,
Glenn Branca,
Mad Mike,
The Doors,
Ultra Naté,
Fat Boys,
Malaria!,
AZ,
Freddie Wadling,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lightning Bolt,
Roy Ayers,
Talk Talk,
ABC,
Motorama,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Delta 5,
F. McDonald,
These Immortal Souls,
The Birthday Party,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.