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 Mauritius and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Average White Band,
The Sound,
the Germs,
The Techniques,
David Bowie,
Malaria!,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Motions,
Second Layer,
Scientists,
Dawn Penn,
Marmalade,
Symarip,
Donny Hathaway,
Oblivians,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pole,
Angry Samoans,
New Age Steppers,
Cheater Slicks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Derrick Morgan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
ABC,
Black Moon,
R.M.O.,
the Sonics,
F. McDonald,
Aural Exciters,
Technova,
Cal Tjader,
Jimmy McGriff,
Michelle Simonal,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Gap Band,
Lyres,
The Monochrome Set,
James White and The Blacks,
Johnny Clarke,
The Neon Judgement,
Marc Almond,
Man Parrish,
The Pretty Things,
The Fall,
Bobby Sherman,
Pulsallama,
The Trojans,
The Gladiators,
The Stooges,
Suicide,
Robert Wyatt,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
AZ,
Severed Heads,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Archie Shepp,
Monks,
Can,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.