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 Panama and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 spring reverb 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q65 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?
The Gun Club,
the Germs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bang On A Can,
Ken Boothe,
The Gladiators,
Aaron Thompson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Drive Like Jehu,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Five Americans,
Gang Starr,
Gang Gang Dance,
Soft Machine,
Quadrant,
Bush Tetras,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Gories,
Connie Case,
Camouflage,
Make Up,
The Red Krayola,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ponytail,
Pere Ubu,
Archie Shepp,
Agent Orange,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Walker Brothers,
Rapeman,
Colin Newman,
Marmalade,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Robert Wyatt,
The Techniques,
Sugar Minott,
Ossler,
Nils Olav,
ABC,
Moss Icon,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
L. Decosne,
Altered Images,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
David Axelrod,
Zero Boys,
The Pretty Things,
Chrome,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Quando Quango,
The Slits,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pagans,
Gang Green,
The Cure,
Cybotron,
Malaria!,
Can,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.