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 Guatemala and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Stockholm Monsters to the techno 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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
John Coltrane,
Rekid,
Tom Boy,
Deadbeat,
The Raincoats,
Tres Demented,
Buzzcocks,
Sarah Menescal,
The Knickerbockers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Slave,
The Saints,
JFA,
The New Christs,
Drive Like Jehu,
10cc,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Cal Tjader,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Howard Jones,
AZ,
Lucky Dragons,
Monolake,
Shoche,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Tubeway Army,
The Angels of Light,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Connie Case,
The Real Kids,
Donny Hathaway,
Crooked Eye,
Negative Approach,
Pantytec,
Joey Negro,
Delon & Dalcan,
Scion,
Man Eating Sloth,
Don Cherry,
Crime,
The Walker Brothers,
The Moody Blues,
Visage,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rufus Thomas,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bill Wells,
Ronan,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Theoretical Girls,
Magazine,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
This Heat,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Cybotron,
Dave Gahan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Amazonics,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.