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 Paraguay and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Slave to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delta 5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lee Hazlewood,
Au Pairs,
Rosa Yemen,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Quadrant,
Fat Boys,
Junior Murvin,
James White and The Blacks,
John Coltrane,
Gang Gang Dance,
Vainqueur,
David Bowie,
Gabor Szabo,
Fear,
The Real Kids,
AZ,
The Walker Brothers,
Porter Ricks,
Simply Red,
Blossom Toes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sex Pistols,
The New Christs,
Fad Gadget,
June Days,
Reagan Youth,
Ludus,
Wings,
EPMD,
Dead Boys,
Barbara Tucker,
Wasted Youth,
The Cure,
Spoonie Gee,
Pet Shop Boys,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Das Ding,
Ohio Players,
Dennis Brown,
Jandek,
Slick Rick,
The Residents,
Mr. Review,
Jeff Mills,
Scrapy,
Zero Boys,
Parry Music,
Sight & Sound,
The Offenders,
Saccharine Trust,
The Associates,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Joey Negro,
Arcadia,
Steve Hackett,
The Mummies,
Boredoms,
Fela Kuti,
Hoover,
Idris Muhammad,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.