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 Morocco and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Monolake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Royal Trux,
Aswad,
Outsiders,
Zero Boys,
The Blues Magoos,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
A Certain Ratio,
Man Parrish,
Severed Heads,
The United States of America,
Dual Sessions,
David McCallum,
Warsaw,
Sex Pistols,
Niagra,
Robert Görl,
Maleditus Sound,
Dead Boys,
Johnny Osbourne,
Funkadelic,
Gang of Four,
The Dead C,
Robert Hood,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Whodini,
Agent Orange,
The Buckinghams,
Faraquet,
The American Breed,
Bootsy Collins,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lungfish,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Alarm Clocks,
Newcleus,
Fat Boys,
Sexual Harrassment,
Vladislav Delay,
The Busters,
Roger Hodgson,
Q and Not U,
Rod Modell,
One Last Wish,
Kenny Larkin,
Ohio Players,
Stetsasonic,
Faust,
The Moody Blues,
Franke,
Lower 48,
Pylon,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Mojo Men,
10cc,
The Kinks,
The Cramps,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.