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 Philippines and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Bobby Womack to the funk 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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
The Skatalites,
The Sound,
The Electric Prunes,
Sixth Finger,
The Beau Brummels,
The Gories,
Rod Modell,
Echospace,
The Zeros,
Bluetip,
Main Source,
Visage,
Dave Gahan,
48th St. Collective,
Excepter,
Jimmy McGriff,
Banda Bassotti,
The New Christs,
Jacques Brel,
Zapp,
Brand Nubian,
The United States of America,
8 Eyed Spy,
Letta Mbulu,
Scientists,
Depeche Mode,
Blossom Toes,
Al Stewart,
The Index,
Kerrie Biddell,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Barracudas,
AZ,
Black Bananas,
Jerry's Kids,
Pierre Henry,
Thee Headcoats,
Adolescents,
Scan 7,
Mr. Review,
Sister Nancy,
Fat Boys,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Busters,
Masters at Work,
Frankie Knuckles,
Freddie Wadling,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Archie Shepp,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Doobie Brothers,
The American Breed,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bobby Sherman,
Pole,
Bang On A Can,
Wolf Eyes,
Ultra Naté,
The Human League,
Franke,
Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith.
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.