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 Albania and from Seoul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Cal Tjader to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
Stereo Dub,
Soft Machine,
Neu!,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lou Reed,
The Fortunes,
KRS-One,
Bobby Byrd,
Malaria!,
JFA,
The Modern Lovers,
Juan Atkins,
Yazoo,
Sparks,
A Certain Ratio,
Pet Shop Boys,
Agent Orange,
The Durutti Column,
Danielle Patucci,
Fugazi,
Hashim,
Gang Gang Dance,
Joyce Sims,
The Offenders,
Fad Gadget,
Icehouse,
Brick,
Lindisfarne,
Maleditus Sound,
Blossom Toes,
Sound Behaviour,
Tubeway Army,
Marine Girls,
D'Angelo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
June of 44,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Mark Hollis,
Gichy Dan,
Aloha Tigers,
AZ,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
CMW,
Sex Pistols,
Laurel Aitken,
Little Man,
Young Marble Giants,
Silicon Teens,
Cluster,
The Dead C,
Altered Images,
Johnny Clarke,
Archie Shepp,
Minor Threat,
Camberwell Now,
Skaos,
Clear Light,
Boogie Down Productions,
Drive Like Jehu,
ABBA,
Pagans,
B.T. Express,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.