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 Bremen.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Crooked Eye to the techno 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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Grey Daturas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Brothers Johnson,
The Busters,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Litter,
Hot Snakes,
Bob Dylan,
Suicide,
Minnie Riperton,
Todd Rundgren,
The Star Department,
The Monks,
These Immortal Souls,
Los Fastidios,
Skriet,
Mandrill,
Parry Music,
Bauhaus,
Throbbing Gristle,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Henry Cow,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fugazi,
Jeff Lynne,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Avey Tare,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Slackers,
the Slits,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Franke,
Jawbox,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Peter & Gordon,
Nick Fraelich,
Boogie Down Productions,
Reagan Youth,
Eric B and Rakim,
DJ Sneak,
Dead Boys,
Depeche Mode,
Scientists,
Young Marble Giants,
Negative Approach,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Glenn Branca,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pylon,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Average White Band,
R.M.O.,
Massinfluence,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Associates,
The Blackbyrds,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.