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 Sweden and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gang of Four,
Marine Girls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Detroit Cobras,
Steve Hackett,
Funkadelic,
Little Man,
Brick,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Cybotron,
T. Rex,
Henry Cow,
Public Image Ltd.,
Los Fastidios,
Gang Green,
Warsaw,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Techniques,
The Selecter,
UT,
Stiv Bators,
Cameo,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Pop Group,
Minnie Riperton,
La Düsseldorf,
The Move,
The Slackers,
The Blues Magoos,
Stockholm Monsters,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Sonics,
Cheater Slicks,
Ice-T,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Arthur Verocai,
Kerrie Biddell,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Wings,
It's A Beautiful Day,
AZ,
The Doors,
Rotary Connection,
The Gories,
The Black Dice,
Eurythmics,
Eve St. Jones,
Bill Near,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Clear Light,
Ultravox,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Shuggie Otis,
The Velvet Underground,
The Human League,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fugazi,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.