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 Micronesia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 harpsichord 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 Cymande to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Certain Ratio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Nick Fraelich,
The Dirtbombs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fugazi,
Reuben Wilson,
Jacques Brel,
The Wake,
Hashim,
Loose Ends,
Goldenarms,
Nico,
Faust,
Deadbeat,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Eric Copeland,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Joyce Sims,
Ken Boothe,
Aural Exciters,
Ultimate Spinach,
Black Flag,
Marc Almond,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
X-101,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gerry Rafferty,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Smoke,
Robert Görl,
Duran Duran,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Alison Limerick,
The Gladiators,
Interpol,
U.S. Maple,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nirvana,
The J.B.'s,
Heaven 17,
Dawn Penn,
Darondo,
Harry Pussy,
Freddie Wadling,
John Holt,
Prince Buster,
Trumans Water,
Malaria!,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rekid,
cv313,
Hasil Adkins,
the Swans,
This Heat,
The Happenings,
The Monks,
Erasure,
Pole,
Bobby Womack,
Scan 7,
The Searchers,
Brass Construction,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.