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 Argentina and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Gun Club to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Howard Jones,
Blancmange,
Quadrant,
Metal Thangz,
Das Ding,
Scott Walker,
Isaac Hayes,
Scratch Acid,
Kayak,
Urselle,
Severed Heads,
Dual Sessions,
Susan Cadogan,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Knickerbockers,
The Fall,
Whodini,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Aloha Tigers,
Flash Fearless,
Sparks,
Swans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Hot Snakes,
Frankie Knuckles,
Robert Wyatt,
Ten City,
Average White Band,
Pole,
Camouflage,
The Saints,
Traffic Nightmare,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Spandau Ballet,
Bobby Sherman,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Donald Byrd,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Techniques,
DNA,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Sonics,
Erykah Badu,
Mission of Burma,
Harry Pussy,
Bizarre Inc.,
Roxy Music,
Minor Threat,
Depeche Mode,
Gang Green,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
These Immortal Souls,
New Age Steppers,
Harpers Bizarre,
8 Eyed Spy,
Popol Vuh,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Zapp,
Ornette Coleman,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.