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 Ireland 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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Gerry Rafferty to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Von Mondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Outsiders,
The Standells,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Cowsills,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Dirtbombs,
Aural Exciters,
Surgeon,
The Fugs,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Das Ding,
Country Teasers,
Gang Green,
Barrington Levy,
Camberwell Now,
Wings,
Jawbox,
Agent Orange,
Sarah Menescal,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pussy Galore,
The Happenings,
Chrome,
Robert Hood,
the Sonics,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pantaleimon,
Bluetip,
Man Parrish,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Slick Rick,
Fugazi,
Ice-T,
Suburban Knight,
Absolute Body Control,
Sister Nancy,
Main Source,
Deepchord,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jeff Mills,
Cameo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Derrick Morgan,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gang Starr,
Lalo Schifrin,
Japan,
Parry Music,
Eyeless In Gaza,
June of 44,
Eve St. Jones,
The Last Poets,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Black Sheep,
Eric Copeland,
Warsaw,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.