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 Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 Moebius to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Accadde A,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bobby Byrd,
Duran Duran,
Zero Boys,
MDC,
Bobby Womack,
Whodini,
Zapp,
Franke,
The Monks,
China Crisis,
Sex Pistols,
Dave Gahan,
Outsiders,
Minny Pops,
Yazoo,
Gichy Dan,
Barbara Tucker,
the Bar-Kays,
Kurtis Blow,
Jerry Gold Smith,
David Bowie,
Derrick May,
Nico,
Ornette Coleman,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Severed Heads,
Index,
Mo-Dettes,
Dual Sessions,
DJ Sneak,
Hoover,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mr. Review,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cybotron,
the Sonics,
Roxy Music,
Pet Shop Boys,
PIL,
Oneida,
Traffic Nightmare,
L. Decosne,
World's Most,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
the Normal,
The Saints,
Negative Approach,
Gang of Four,
Faraquet,
Interpol,
John Lydon,
Ronnie Foster,
The Residents,
The Music Machine,
Davy DMX,
The Skatalites,
Rites of Spring,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Radiohead,
Surgeon,
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.