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 Sri Lanka and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 harpsichord 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 Hasil Adkins to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Sound. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Arthur Verocai,
Lalo Schifrin,
Isaac Hayes,
F. McDonald,
Lower 48,
The Fuzztones,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Dead C,
The Pop Group,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Agitation Free,
Danielle Patucci,
Jeru the Damaja,
Zapp,
B.T. Express,
Brass Construction,
K-Klass,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Kinks,
The Move,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Minor Threat,
the Human League,
Bobby Sherman,
Gil Scott Heron,
Josef K,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
James White and The Blacks,
Thee Headcoats,
Talk Talk,
Flipper,
La Düsseldorf,
Cecil Taylor,
R.M.O.,
Bluetip,
Barclay James Harvest,
Black Moon,
Whodini,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Swans,
Frankie Knuckles,
Altered Images,
Albert Ayler,
Boogie Down Productions,
Wasted Youth,
Easy Going,
Smog,
Electric Prunes,
Bush Tetras,
Lalann,
Ken Boothe,
the Normal,
Deadbeat,
Malaria!,
Brand Nubian,
CMW,
Leonard Cohen,
the Fania All-Stars,
Surgeon,
Royal Trux,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.