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 Nepal and from Seoul.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Glasgow.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Marine Girls to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Unrelated Segments,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
T.S.O.L.,
Dave Gahan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bauhaus,
Moebius,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bluetip,
Eddi Front,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Johnny Osbourne,
Arab on Radar,
Magazine,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Gong,
The Doors,
Accadde A,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Rakim,
Khruangbin,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Roy Ayers,
Piero Umiliani,
H. Thieme,
The Music Machine,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ten City,
Zapp,
Half Japanese,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sun City Girls,
KRS-One,
Mr. Review,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jimmy McGriff,
Crispy Ambulance,
Malaria!,
Loose Ends,
OOIOO,
Alton Ellis,
The Buckinghams,
The Real Kids,
Thee Headcoats,
Cybotron,
Ludus,
Stiv Bators,
Excepter,
Smog,
Sound Behaviour,
The Birthday Party,
Jesper Dahlback,
Camberwell Now,
The Barracudas,
Hardrive,
New Order,
Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron.
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.