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 Argentina and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 spring reverb 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 Robert Hood to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Wally Richardson,
Accadde A,
Charles Mingus,
Vainqueur,
Crooked Eye,
UT,
Gabor Szabo,
The Fall,
Piero Umiliani,
OOIOO,
Symarip,
Stetsasonic,
Circle Jerks,
Faraquet,
MDC,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mandrill,
Cal Tjader,
John Coltrane,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sandy B,
The Neon Judgement,
Dark Day,
The Modern Lovers,
Banda Bassotti,
Unwound,
The Star Department,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gang Starr,
Swell Maps,
Aaron Thompson,
The Grass Roots,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Standells,
Radiohead,
Throbbing Gristle,
Subhumans,
New York Dolls,
Outsiders,
ABC,
Terry Callier,
The Pretty Things,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Au Pairs,
Los Fastidios,
T. Rex,
Warren Ellis,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Chris & Cosey,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fire Engines,
Pylon,
Metal Thangz,
Negative Approach,
Scientists,
Mr. Review,
Sun Ra,
Black Pus,
Camouflage,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.