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 Uganda and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the mellotron 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 These Immortal Souls to the rock 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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Skarface,
Q and Not U,
Blancmange,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Toasters,
Marc Almond,
Hot Snakes,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mandrill,
The Red Krayola,
KRS-One,
Gil Scott Heron,
Boz Scaggs,
Cybotron,
Neu!,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Residents,
Circle Jerks,
Bronski Beat,
The Offenders,
Warsaw,
Stetsasonic,
Camberwell Now,
Mars,
One Last Wish,
Cecil Taylor,
The Slackers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Aaron Thompson,
Tom Boy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Gap Band,
Aural Exciters,
Davy DMX,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Soft Cell,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Dirtbombs,
Tim Buckley,
Judy Mowatt,
Alphaville,
The Birthday Party,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Wire,
Boredoms,
The Mummies,
Radiohead,
a-ha,
Sparks,
Ossler,
Cheater Slicks,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Grass Roots,
Theoretical Girls,
The Modern Lovers,
Nico,
Erykah Badu,
Zero Boys,
Bootsy Collins,
Cluster,
Desert Stars,
Depeche Mode,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.