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 Houston.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Slave to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
Donny Hathaway,
Camouflage,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Crispy Ambulance,
Maleditus Sound,
X-Ray Spex,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Beau Brummels,
Public Enemy,
Surgeon,
Aaron Thompson,
Con Funk Shun,
Bobby Womack,
The Last Poets,
Juan Atkins,
Vladislav Delay,
Joe Finger,
Dennis Brown,
John Holt,
Groovy Waters,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Slits,
The Smoke,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scott Walker,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Golliwogs,
Eric Copeland,
E-Dancer,
Warren Ellis,
Suburban Knight,
Youth Brigade,
kango's stein massive,
Scratch Acid,
Procol Harum,
Silicon Teens,
Country Teasers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
James White and The Blacks,
Davy DMX,
Mo-Dettes,
Animal Collective,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Black Dice,
David McCallum,
The Leaves,
Laurel Aitken,
John Lydon,
Harpers Bizarre,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Grey Daturas,
Qualms,
Thompson Twins,
Curtis Mayfield,
Can,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mandrill,
Outsiders,
Massinfluence,
Eve St. Jones,
Wasted Youth,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.