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 Chad and from Manila.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pussy Galore to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
New York Dolls,
The Detroit Cobras,
DNA,
the Swans,
Todd Terry,
The Toasters,
Juan Atkins,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Matthew Bourne,
Pulsallama,
Minnie Riperton,
Saccharine Trust,
The Leaves,
Accadde A,
Black Flag,
Duran Duran,
Nation of Ulysses,
Warsaw,
10cc,
Jacques Brel,
Josef K,
The Barracudas,
The Divine Comedy,
Radiohead,
Electric Prunes,
Swans,
Archie Shepp,
CMW,
Silicon Teens,
The Move,
The Red Krayola,
Man Parrish,
Tears for Fears,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
One Last Wish,
Reagan Youth,
Arthur Verocai,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lungfish,
Make Up,
The Birthday Party,
Second Layer,
Terry Callier,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pantytec,
The Fall,
Royal Trux,
Rekid,
The Doobie Brothers,
Guru Guru,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Human League,
Warren Ellis,
The Mummies,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.