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 Nigeria and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the organ 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 Malaria! to the grunge 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 Can. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson 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 chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rotary Connection,
FM Einheit,
Lightning Bolt,
Arcadia,
Desert Stars,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Deakin,
The Invisible,
Eurythmics,
Byron Stingily,
La Düsseldorf,
Los Fastidios,
Ken Boothe,
Rakim,
Gil Scott Heron,
Steve Hackett,
Pere Ubu,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Star Department,
Soul Sonic Force,
Wolf Eyes,
Oblivians,
Bill Near,
The Gories,
Magazine,
Severed Heads,
Skriet,
Erykah Badu,
Model 500,
The Vogues,
The Durutti Column,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pantytec,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Stooges,
Susan Cadogan,
Amazonics,
Scan 7,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rekid,
Silicon Teens,
Blancmange,
Glambeats Corp.,
June Days,
Thee Headcoats,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Evens,
Reagan Youth,
Henry Cow,
Malaria!,
DJ Style,
The Leaves,
Duran Duran,
Cal Tjader,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fluxion,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bluetip,
Roy Ayers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sixth Finger,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.