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 Chile and from Bologna.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Johannesburg.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Blancmange to the punk 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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Nick Fraelich,
The Mojo Men,
the Slits,
Minnie Riperton,
Make Up,
Porter Ricks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Anthony Braxton,
The Residents,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Wings,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Minutemen,
Thompson Twins,
World's Most,
Leonard Cohen,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gang Starr,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Golliwogs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Steve Hackett,
The Zeros,
The Fugs,
Cymande,
Graham Central Station,
H. Thieme,
Albert Ayler,
Sun City Girls,
Nas,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Whodini,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Moebius,
The Red Krayola,
Bob Dylan,
Cecil Taylor,
Eric Dolphy,
Clear Light,
Index,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Velvet Underground,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Tommy Roe,
Metal Thangz,
Grey Daturas,
Letta Mbulu,
Magma,
Eden Ahbez,
Kerri Chandler,
Deadbeat,
Intrusion,
Marmalade,
Danielle Patucci,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Man Parrish,
The Black Dice,
Von Mondo,
Brothers Johnson,
Donny Hathaway,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.