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 Samoa 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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Dark Day to the crunk 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 the Swans. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Crooked Eye,
Make Up,
Goldenarms,
The American Breed,
Quadrant,
Bobby Byrd,
Model 500,
Minny Pops,
Trumans Water,
Jacob Miller,
Public Enemy,
Sandy B,
The Durutti Column,
The Zeros,
Sonic Youth,
Steve Hackett,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Roger Hodgson,
Lebanon Hanover,
Aaron Thompson,
The Remains,
Flipper,
Bill Wells,
Donny Hathaway,
Chris Corsano,
Jawbox,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Reuben Wilson,
Eddi Front,
Bobby Sherman,
Fear,
Arthur Verocai,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Evens,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Minor Threat,
The Misunderstood,
Tres Demented,
Slave,
Avey Tare,
Ituana,
Television,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Monks,
Bang On A Can,
Nik Kershaw,
The Trojans,
Ten City,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Faust,
Crime,
Althea and Donna,
LL Cool J,
Susan Cadogan,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Kinks,
Cameo,
Funky Four + One,
Flash Fearless,
Shoche,
June Days,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.