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 Samoa and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Graham Central Station to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
The Red Krayola,
Newcleus,
Morten Harket,
Hoover,
Fatback Band,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Tim Buckley,
the Germs,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Tremeloes,
Aural Exciters,
Camberwell Now,
Freddie Wadling,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Crime,
Rhythm & Sound,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Trojans,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nirvana,
Donny Hathaway,
Cal Tjader,
10cc,
Bobby Byrd,
Patti Smith,
Kerrie Biddell,
Matthew Bourne,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Harpers Bizarre,
Idris Muhammad,
Lyres,
Slave,
Maleditus Sound,
Animal Collective,
Kaleidoscope,
Camouflage,
Sex Pistols,
Janne Schatter,
Index,
Jeff Mills,
David Axelrod,
Panda Bear,
The Dirtbombs,
The Fortunes,
the Sonics,
48th St. Collective,
Don Cherry,
Gong,
Robert Wyatt,
Model 500,
Skaos,
Mars,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Davy DMX,
Heaven 17,
Cecil Taylor,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.