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 Norway and from Jakarta.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Michael McDonald 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 Doors to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
June Days,
JFA,
Erykah Badu,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mo-Dettes,
Bang On A Can,
Don Cherry,
Wally Richardson,
Nico,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Arthur Verocai,
Franke,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Tropical Tobacco,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Public Enemy,
Underground Resistance,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nik Kershaw,
La Düsseldorf,
Kenny Larkin,
The Sound,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ituana,
Davy DMX,
Pantaleimon,
Absolute Body Control,
The Litter,
Avey Tare,
Amon Düül,
Sam Rivers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sex Pistols,
Pagans,
Dead Boys,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Camberwell Now,
Susan Cadogan,
Nation of Ulysses,
Brass Construction,
Alphaville,
Adolescents,
Vladislav Delay,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fugazi,
U.S. Maple,
Thompson Twins,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lebanon Hanover,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Livin' Joy,
Wolf Eyes,
Crash Course in Science,
Rod Modell,
The Leaves,
Animal Collective,
Make Up,
Black Flag,
Skaos,
Porter Ricks,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.