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 Micronesia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 Grauzone to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Howard Jones,
Pere Ubu,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Archie Shepp,
Gang of Four,
Unwound,
ABBA,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bronski Beat,
Sexual Harrassment,
Black Moon,
Anakelly,
Harry Pussy,
Suicide,
Bill Wells,
Yellowson,
Gichy Dan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Joyce Sims,
Technova,
Aloha Tigers,
Amazonics,
Freddie Wadling,
Max Romeo,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Excepter,
Piero Umiliani,
Saccharine Trust,
Audionom,
Prince Buster,
Minutemen,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ituana,
The Neon Judgement,
X-Ray Spex,
The Modern Lovers,
The Cowsills,
Harmonia,
Japan,
Nas,
Groovy Waters,
Roxette,
David McCallum,
Albert Ayler,
Popol Vuh,
Graham Central Station,
Quantec,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nik Kershaw,
H. Thieme,
Lalo Schifrin,
Severed Heads,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pagans,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Urselle,
Glenn Branca,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.