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 Venezuela and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Public Image Ltd. to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Sound. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
OOIOO,
Aaron Thompson,
Con Funk Shun,
Trumans Water,
KRS-One,
Rekid,
Kayak,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Sonics,
Susan Cadogan,
Juan Atkins,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Amon Düül II,
Quando Quango,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Tremeloes,
Robert Görl,
Lakeside,
Brass Construction,
The Detroit Cobras,
Delta 5,
AZ,
Masters at Work,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Adolescents,
T.S.O.L.,
Fifty Foot Hose,
June of 44,
Boz Scaggs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Seeds,
The Vogues,
The Move,
Robert Wyatt,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Porter Ricks,
Arab on Radar,
Morten Harket,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Last Poets,
Audionom,
Don Cherry,
Suburban Knight,
Procol Harum,
Tom Boy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Minutemen,
John Holt,
Goldenarms,
Sight & Sound,
Ossler,
the Human League,
Tres Demented,
The Stooges,
Fugazi,
Boogie Down Productions,
Fad Gadget,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.