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 Cuba and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Houston.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the mellotron 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 A Certain Ratio to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! 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 theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Chocolate Watch Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reagan Youth,
the Germs,
Franke,
48th St. Collective,
Slave,
Ken Boothe,
UT,
Smog,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Connie Case,
Wings,
Jeru the Damaja,
Japan,
The Black Dice,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nico,
Wolf Eyes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pussy Galore,
AZ,
Danielle Patucci,
The Durutti Column,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nirvana,
Talk Talk,
Dawn Penn,
Lightning Bolt,
Vladislav Delay,
Surgeon,
Prince Buster,
X-Ray Spex,
Arcadia,
Robert Görl,
The Red Krayola,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Al Stewart,
The Offenders,
Black Flag,
Joensuu 1685,
Mission of Burma,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ralphi Rosario,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pere Ubu,
The Fall,
Black Sheep,
Maleditus Sound,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
New Order,
Kurtis Blow,
Yazoo,
Agitation Free,
Steve Hackett,
June of 44,
Negative Approach,
June Days,
Spandau Ballet,
Hardrive,
Adolescents,
Lalann,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.