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 Bhutan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 London and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Black Moon to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Pere Ubu,
Black Flag,
Flipper,
Tim Buckley,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Fall,
The Motions,
The Raincoats,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kerri Chandler,
Buzzcocks,
Mantronix,
Magazine,
Glenn Branca,
Harmonia,
Fluxion,
The Associates,
The Monochrome Set,
Hot Snakes,
Radio Birdman,
Cabaret Voltaire,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Newcleus,
Eric B and Rakim,
Reuben Wilson,
Agitation Free,
Dorothy Ashby,
Index,
The Doors,
Hoover,
Avey Tare,
Altered Images,
Yellowson,
Television Personalities,
Tom Boy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Surgeon,
Radiohead,
Sam Rivers,
James White and The Blacks,
The Toasters,
Vainqueur,
The Monks,
X-102,
Lyres,
Deadbeat,
Deepchord,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rekid,
Jeff Lynne,
Fugazi,
The Dead C,
ABBA,
Thee Headcoats,
The Neon Judgement,
Public Enemy,
Lightning Bolt,
Amon Düül II,
Crispy Ambulance,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.