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 New Zealand and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mexico City.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sonic Youth to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
The Wake,
Pole,
Smog,
Suburban Knight,
Second Layer,
Intrusion,
The Selecter,
Fad Gadget,
Wally Richardson,
Matthew Bourne,
Lyres,
The Happenings,
The Dead C,
The Sound,
The Birthday Party,
PIL,
Jacques Brel,
R.M.O.,
Fear,
Colin Newman,
Dorothy Ashby,
E-Dancer,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lou Reed,
the Normal,
Moebius,
Masters at Work,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kas Product,
Boz Scaggs,
Procol Harum,
OOIOO,
Judy Mowatt,
Average White Band,
ABC,
Joe Finger,
The Offenders,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Chris & Cosey,
Rekid,
Public Image Ltd.,
Don Cherry,
Lucky Dragons,
Schoolly D,
Scrapy,
The Raincoats,
Swans,
Mantronix,
The Dirtbombs,
Eric Dolphy,
This Heat,
Technova,
Tommy Roe,
Black Sheep,
Whodini,
The Fire Engines,
Unrelated Segments,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.