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 Guinea-Bissau and from Copenhagen.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Girls At Our Best! to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Radiohead. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
Simply Red,
Marvin Gaye,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Reagan Youth,
Soft Machine,
The Slackers,
Sonic Youth,
Warsaw,
Judy Mowatt,
Urselle,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pulsallama,
Gabor Szabo,
Joyce Sims,
8 Eyed Spy,
Y Pants,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Q and Not U,
Byron Stingily,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Robert Görl,
Joey Negro,
Juan Atkins,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jacob Miller,
Pole,
Janne Schatter,
Audionom,
The Invisible,
The Mummies,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Cheater Slicks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Supertramp,
John Coltrane,
Von Mondo,
Erasure,
Nick Fraelich,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Erykah Badu,
The Associates,
Mars,
Althea and Donna,
Angry Samoans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lungfish,
The Index,
The Gun Club,
LL Cool J,
Sällskapet,
Todd Rundgren,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
E-Dancer,
Blossom Toes,
Ultravox,
Drexciya,
The Angels of Light,
The Birthday Party,
Don Cherry,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.