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 Azerbaijan and from Calgary.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Delhi.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the güiro 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 Saccharine Trust to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
Joe Finger,
June Days,
Brothers Johnson,
Supertramp,
The Black Dice,
The Beau Brummels,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
L. Decosne,
The Litter,
Thee Headcoats,
Suicide,
The Cowsills,
U.S. Maple,
Iggy Pop,
Sparks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rites of Spring,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sällskapet,
Black Flag,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Andrew Hill,
Barry Ungar,
Al Stewart,
Qualms,
Archie Shepp,
Erasure,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sister Nancy,
Yazoo,
The Music Machine,
Patti Smith,
Intrusion,
The Barracudas,
Pylon,
Boz Scaggs,
Skriet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Chrome,
Cymande,
The Names,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pere Ubu,
Alison Limerick,
the Human League,
Soul Sonic Force,
Zapp,
PIL,
Deadbeat,
Kerrie Biddell,
Los Fastidios,
Nation of Ulysses,
Quadrant,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.