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 Kiribati and from Tehran.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 organ 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 Lalann to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Spoonie Gee,
The Music Machine,
Slick Rick,
ABBA,
Carl Craig,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Youth Brigade,
Brick,
The J.B.'s,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Intrusion,
Y Pants,
Sällskapet,
Pantytec,
The Sonics,
Newcleus,
Q and Not U,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mary Jane Girls,
China Crisis,
The Saints,
Curtis Mayfield,
David McCallum,
cv313,
Saccharine Trust,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Con Funk Shun,
Lalann,
Minor Threat,
The Residents,
The Walker Brothers,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Star Department,
Bobby Sherman,
The Slits,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ronan,
AZ,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Camouflage,
The Mummies,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Skarface,
The Leaves,
The Modern Lovers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Grey Daturas,
Neu!,
The Cure,
Thompson Twins,
Cheater Slicks,
Iggy Pop,
Zapp,
Junior Murvin,
Rosa Yemen,
The Divine Comedy,
Joey Negro,
Eddi Front,
The Barracudas,
Quando Quango,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.