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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Throbbing Gristle to the techno 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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Janne Schatter,
Country Teasers,
CMW,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Icehouse,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Stooges,
Grandmaster Flash,
Junior Murvin,
Man Eating Sloth,
Severed Heads,
The Knickerbockers,
Deadbeat,
Guru Guru,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Arab on Radar,
Joyce Sims,
Camouflage,
Symarip,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Radio Birdman,
The Black Dice,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Martian,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ronan,
T.S.O.L.,
Radiohead,
The Gories,
Joensuu 1685,
Brothers Johnson,
Black Sheep,
Alice Coltrane,
Iggy Pop,
Siglo XX,
10cc,
Brand Nubian,
F. McDonald,
Monks,
Godley & Creme,
Judy Mowatt,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
K-Klass,
Scratch Acid,
Alison Limerick,
Dual Sessions,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Massinfluence,
Sound Behaviour,
Bobby Sherman,
Joy Division,
World's Most,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Cheater Slicks,
Loose Ends,
Magma,
Scrapy,
Tomorrow,
Zapp,
E-Dancer,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.