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 Romania and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Milan.
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 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 The Sisters of Mercy 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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rotary Connection,
Liliput,
The Cramps,
Inner City,
Tres Demented,
Hoover,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Martian,
Althea and Donna,
Panda Bear,
Marmalade,
Matthew Bourne,
MDC,
Nico,
Michelle Simonal,
Accadde A,
The Red Krayola,
U.S. Maple,
The Litter,
Soul II Soul,
Main Source,
Radiohead,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Birthday Party,
Au Pairs,
Interpol,
Rekid,
Juan Atkins,
Los Fastidios,
The Moleskins,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Severed Heads,
The Moody Blues,
Scion,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Malaria!,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hot Snakes,
Traffic Nightmare,
Blancmange,
Ultravox,
KRS-One,
Anthony Braxton,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Funkadelic,
Throbbing Gristle,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Dead C,
Harry Pussy,
Matthew Halsall,
Bobby Sherman,
The American Breed,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Dirtbombs,
The Zeros,
Livin' Joy,
Franke,
Andrew Hill,
Eric Copeland,
The Fortunes,
John Foxx,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.