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 Suriname and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Fela Kuti to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
The Dirtbombs,
Theoretical Girls,
Delta 5,
Nik Kershaw,
Cameo,
the Soft Cell,
Josef K,
Bill Near,
Second Layer,
The Gap Band,
The Sound,
Don Cherry,
LL Cool J,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Chris & Cosey,
the Association,
Hoover,
Excepter,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Groovy Waters,
Ituana,
Carl Craig,
Parry Music,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Faust,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Royal Trux,
The Real Kids,
Wally Richardson,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Easy Going,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sun Ra,
Jandek,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Last Poets,
U.S. Maple,
Motorama,
Zero Boys,
Half Japanese,
the Slits,
the Swans,
Ultravox,
The Sonics,
Marvin Gaye,
Agitation Free,
Soft Machine,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Radiohead,
Bill Wells,
New York Dolls,
Echospace,
The Residents,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Darondo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
R.M.O.,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Grandmaster Flash,
Anakelly,
David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod.
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.