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 Finland and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 linndrum 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 The Smiths to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Vladislav Delay,
Tim Buckley,
Eddi Front,
Terry Callier,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dark Day,
Glambeats Corp.,
F. McDonald,
The Walker Brothers,
Technova,
Sparks,
The Fuzztones,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Basic Channel,
Don Cherry,
Althea and Donna,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Procol Harum,
The Alarm Clocks,
Can,
The Electric Prunes,
Alice Coltrane,
The Doors,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Marmalade,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Cramps,
Nico,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Young Rascals,
Slave,
Sixth Finger,
Unwound,
Aural Exciters,
K-Klass,
Steve Hackett,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Fire Engines,
T. Rex,
The Dead C,
Rhythm & Sound,
John Coltrane,
Howard Jones,
Joyce Sims,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Magazine,
Ken Boothe,
Erykah Badu,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Theoretical Girls,
Cymande,
Soft Cell,
Rod Modell,
Depeche Mode,
Outsiders,
Yazoo,
Tres Demented,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ice-T,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.