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 Greece and from Johannesburg.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Shadows of Knight 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 Lebanon Hanover. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Minutemen,
PIL,
Black Moon,
The Raincoats,
Joey Negro,
Tropical Tobacco,
Delon & Dalcan,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Shuggie Otis,
Rufus Thomas,
Gang of Four,
Faraquet,
A Certain Ratio,
The Saints,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Cowsills,
Neil Young,
Matthew Bourne,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
X-101,
Minnie Riperton,
Freddie Wadling,
Rites of Spring,
Cluster,
the Soft Cell,
The Blackbyrds,
Icehouse,
Grauzone,
Banda Bassotti,
Sister Nancy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ponytail,
Zero Boys,
James White and The Blacks,
Mars,
John Foxx,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Slackers,
Jandek,
Desert Stars,
The Red Krayola,
Pet Shop Boys,
Big Daddy Kane,
Donny Hathaway,
Curtis Mayfield,
Trumans Water,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Busters,
Jawbox,
Loose Ends,
Au Pairs,
48th St. Collective,
Eden Ahbez,
Los Fastidios,
Quantec,
Johnny Clarke,
Fad Gadget,
Bang On A Can,
Cheater Slicks,
Aaron Thompson,
The New Christs,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.