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 Latvia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 güiro 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 The Fuzztones to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-102 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Terrestrial Tones,
Avey Tare,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Swans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Marc Almond,
Adolescents,
Das Ding,
MDC,
Angry Samoans,
Gastr Del Sol,
Warsaw,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Davy DMX,
Joensuu 1685,
Funky Four + One,
The Smiths,
Isaac Hayes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bobby Byrd,
Dark Day,
Bauhaus,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Bobby Sherman,
Kerri Chandler,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Standells,
Grauzone,
Black Flag,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eden Ahbez,
The Remains,
The Techniques,
Wire,
The Last Poets,
The Gap Band,
Matthew Halsall,
The Stooges,
Hoover,
Yaz,
Camouflage,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Martian,
The Walker Brothers,
Panda Bear,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Tommy Roe,
Popol Vuh,
Girls At Our Best!,
Aural Exciters,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Beau Brummels,
Andrew Hill,
The Saints,
Audionom,
Saccharine Trust,
Eurythmics,
Electric Prunes,
Michelle Simonal,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.