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 Malaysia and from London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manila.
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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the snare 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 The Wake to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Tim Buckley,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Mary Jane Girls,
DJ Style,
the Germs,
Buzzcocks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Roxy Music,
Basic Channel,
The Wake,
Cal Tjader,
Terry Callier,
Byron Stingily,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Joe Finger,
the Normal,
Minutemen,
Thee Headcoats,
Lalo Schifrin,
Arthur Verocai,
The Flesh Eaters,
Public Enemy,
R.M.O.,
Minnie Riperton,
Junior Murvin,
The Buckinghams,
Kenny Larkin,
Barbara Tucker,
The Happenings,
The Golliwogs,
Mandrill,
Joey Negro,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Boz Scaggs,
Television,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Divine Comedy,
Mad Mike,
Rod Modell,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Pretty Things,
Sex Pistols,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Slits,
Popol Vuh,
Derrick Morgan,
JFA,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Glenn Branca,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Donny Hathaway,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Easy Going,
The Cure,
Danielle Patucci,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bob Dylan,
Nils Olav,
June of 44,
Soft Machine,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jeff Lynne,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.