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 St Kitts & Nevis 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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a It's A Beautiful Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Saccharine Trust,
JFA,
Panda Bear,
X-Ray Spex,
Bluetip,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Blues Magoos,
Michelle Simonal,
Josef K,
One Last Wish,
Mark Hollis,
Ultimate Spinach,
Patti Smith,
The Grass Roots,
Gang of Four,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lou Christie,
The Skatalites,
Crime,
Eddi Front,
Vainqueur,
The Offenders,
Soft Cell,
Black Moon,
The Searchers,
Duran Duran,
Jeff Mills,
Darondo,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cymande,
Rakim,
Radio Birdman,
Black Bananas,
Quadrant,
Eden Ahbez,
the Sonics,
Jacques Brel,
Television Personalities,
Niagra,
Blancmange,
Kurtis Blow,
This Heat,
Easy Going,
Oneida,
June of 44,
Ken Boothe,
Spoonie Gee,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fugazi,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Zapp,
Roy Ayers,
Derrick May,
Derrick Morgan,
Trumans Water,
Silicon Teens,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.