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 Sweden and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 snare 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 Brick to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Average White Band,
PIL,
The Martian,
Rufus Thomas,
Nick Fraelich,
Oneida,
Jeff Mills,
Kerri Chandler,
Alton Ellis,
Mandrill,
Bootsy Collins,
Kayak,
Todd Terry,
Lucky Dragons,
Minnie Riperton,
Lou Christie,
Idris Muhammad,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Funky Four + One,
The Monks,
Index,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Angry Samoans,
Archie Shepp,
Anthony Braxton,
The New Christs,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ornette Coleman,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Radiopuhelimet,
Depeche Mode,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tubeway Army,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pylon,
Johnny Clarke,
Judy Mowatt,
K-Klass,
Gil Scott Heron,
Quando Quango,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Germs,
Junior Murvin,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Unwound,
Royal Trux,
Model 500,
Cameo,
Robert Hood,
Jacob Miller,
Unrelated Segments,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jerry's Kids,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Mad Mike,
Y Pants,
Erasure,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lalann,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.