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 Thailand and from Portland.
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 Stockholm and Accra.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Cameo to the rap 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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale 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 '80s 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 Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Matthew Halsall,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Spandau Ballet,
Steve Hackett,
The Residents,
Minny Pops,
Monolake,
Charles Mingus,
Circle Jerks,
Dawn Penn,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pere Ubu,
Clear Light,
Lakeside,
Mo-Dettes,
Excepter,
The Young Rascals,
Fatback Band,
Barry Ungar,
Reuben Wilson,
Darondo,
Nick Fraelich,
Godley & Creme,
Moebius,
Oneida,
Marc Almond,
Metal Thangz,
Joensuu 1685,
UT,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nik Kershaw,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Fire Engines,
Hardrive,
Pylon,
Quantec,
Jacob Miller,
Maurizio,
Black Flag,
Theoretical Girls,
The Selecter,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gang of Four,
The Skatalites,
Todd Terry,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bang On A Can,
Nico,
X-102,
MC5,
Groovy Waters,
Avey Tare,
Camberwell Now,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Josef K,
Nas,
Motorama,
JFA,
cv313,
Girls At Our Best!,
Vainqueur,
Agitation Free,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.