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 Nigeria and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Marmalade to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Section 25,
Nirvana,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Nick Fraelich,
EPMD,
Bob Dylan,
Agent Orange,
Oblivians,
Malaria!,
Harmonia,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gregory Isaacs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Techniques,
Crispian St. Peters,
Public Image Ltd.,
Flipper,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Donny Hathaway,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Normal,
Eve St. Jones,
The Pop Group,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mr. Review,
Alphaville,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mark Hollis,
Niagra,
Minutemen,
Skriet,
Tim Buckley,
New York Dolls,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Quando Quango,
The Seeds,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Germs,
Deakin,
Junior Murvin,
Delon & Dalcan,
John Lydon,
Ituana,
Kenny Larkin,
Schoolly D,
The Modern Lovers,
The Blues Magoos,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Wasted Youth,
The Velvet Underground,
Althea and Donna,
Piero Umiliani,
Procol Harum,
The Saints,
Absolute Body Control,
MC5,
Erykah Badu,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.