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 Japan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Mantronix to the rap 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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Maleditus Sound,
Arthur Verocai,
Sight & Sound,
R.M.O.,
Agent Orange,
Camberwell Now,
Mark Hollis,
Sonic Youth,
kango's stein massive,
Monks,
Cheater Slicks,
Au Pairs,
The Mojo Men,
Sam Rivers,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Slits,
Television,
Marmalade,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Todd Rundgren,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Searchers,
Lower 48,
Sparks,
Deepchord,
Moebius,
Bill Wells,
cv313,
Blossom Toes,
Das Ding,
Matthew Halsall,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gerry Rafferty,
Chris & Cosey,
Altered Images,
The Offenders,
Rosa Yemen,
The Fuzztones,
Byron Stingily,
Zero Boys,
Bobby Womack,
Iggy Pop,
Barrington Levy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cymande,
The Cure,
The Residents,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Mummies,
Howard Jones,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Soft Cell,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Fluxion,
Erasure,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.