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 Syria and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ken Boothe to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Swans,
Lakeside,
The Dirtbombs,
Radio Birdman,
Carl Craig,
Bauhaus,
Grauzone,
The Star Department,
Matthew Halsall,
Max Romeo,
Althea and Donna,
The Monochrome Set,
Black Pus,
Amon Düül II,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scott Walker,
Niagra,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kenny Larkin,
Delta 5,
Popol Vuh,
Toni Rubio,
Barbara Tucker,
The Move,
Sun City Girls,
Simply Red,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Barracudas,
Isaac Hayes,
Roxette,
The Residents,
Marvin Gaye,
Eden Ahbez,
The J.B.'s,
Sun Ra,
Rotary Connection,
Neu!,
Adolescents,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lindisfarne,
Joy Division,
Brand Nubian,
Mission of Burma,
Kayak,
Alton Ellis,
Eli Mardock,
Whodini,
Scrapy,
Sex Pistols,
The Offenders,
The Victims,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fugazi,
Ken Boothe,
DNA,
Eddi Front,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Count Five,
The Fall,
In Retrospect,
Rites of Spring,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.