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 Kuwait and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 Flag to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Colin Newman,
Amazonics,
Bluetip,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sällskapet,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Prince Buster,
Donny Hathaway,
Swell Maps,
Aural Exciters,
The Blackbyrds,
Traffic Nightmare,
Josef K,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scientists,
LL Cool J,
the Soft Cell,
Crime,
Mantronix,
Excepter,
Theoretical Girls,
Cameo,
Piero Umiliani,
the Slits,
Pantaleimon,
Junior Murvin,
The Doobie Brothers,
Zero Boys,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Music Machine,
Kaleidoscope,
The Selecter,
The Leaves,
Barbara Tucker,
Gil Scott Heron,
Scan 7,
Todd Rundgren,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ronnie Foster,
Rites of Spring,
Porter Ricks,
Graham Central Station,
Gang Green,
Fluxion,
Bad Manners,
Young Marble Giants,
Moss Icon,
Silicon Teens,
Charles Mingus,
Accadde A,
Howard Jones,
Juan Atkins,
The Angels of Light,
Neu!,
Bootsy Collins,
Schoolly D,
Spoonie Gee,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Audionom,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.