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 Namibia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Paris.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Agitation Free to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Kayak,
Rakim,
Lee Hazlewood,
Andrew Hill,
the Human League,
Max Romeo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Glenn Branca,
Sound Behaviour,
Jacob Miller,
Bobby Womack,
The Cowsills,
Half Japanese,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Star Department,
Eli Mardock,
The Young Rascals,
Johnny Osbourne,
Cybotron,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gichy Dan,
The Wake,
Boredoms,
Fugazi,
Tubeway Army,
Soulsonic Force,
The Seeds,
Yusef Lateef,
Organ,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Depeche Mode,
Warren Ellis,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Barry Ungar,
Smog,
Radio Birdman,
The Happenings,
Fluxion,
Sex Pistols,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Dave Clark Five,
Moss Icon,
Robert Hood,
The Cure,
Susan Cadogan,
Boz Scaggs,
Cameo,
Urselle,
John Lydon,
Faraquet,
Bad Manners,
The Angels of Light,
Los Fastidios,
The Names,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Fear,
Roy Ayers,
Yellowson,
The Red Krayola,
China Crisis,
Royal Trux,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.