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 Palau 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Khruangbin,
The Zeros,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Todd Terry,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Joey Negro,
Curtis Mayfield,
Vainqueur,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Cure,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Al Stewart,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pantytec,
Girls At Our Best!,
Saccharine Trust,
June Days,
Matthew Halsall,
Fela Kuti,
Lungfish,
Infiniti,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
James White and The Blacks,
June of 44,
X-Ray Spex,
Kerri Chandler,
Monks,
Electric Prunes,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Pus,
Whodini,
Guru Guru,
Kas Product,
Joyce Sims,
Minny Pops,
Von Mondo,
Camouflage,
Johnny Clarke,
Technova,
Ohio Players,
Moebius,
Dual Sessions,
Henry Cow,
Pole,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Vladislav Delay,
Black Sheep,
Radiohead,
Heaven 17,
Derrick Morgan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Last Poets,
In Retrospect,
Delta 5,
Brothers Johnson,
Qualms,
Faraquet,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Procol Harum,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.