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 Seychelles and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Man Eating Sloth to the dance 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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Groovy Waters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Monks,
Audionom,
Adolescents,
Crispy Ambulance,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Blues Magoos,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Marine Girls,
The Velvet Underground,
Mars,
Y Pants,
Ultravox,
The Doobie Brothers,
John Cale,
Iggy Pop,
The Star Department,
Sällskapet,
the Normal,
Roger Hodgson,
Popol Vuh,
The Pop Group,
Patti Smith,
Marc Almond,
The Fire Engines,
Average White Band,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Nas,
Marvin Gaye,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Sonics,
Colin Newman,
The Knickerbockers,
EPMD,
David Axelrod,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Aural Exciters,
Banda Bassotti,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Mojo Men,
T.S.O.L.,
Bootsy Collins,
Hoover,
the Human League,
Sparks,
Darondo,
The Residents,
John Lydon,
Eden Ahbez,
Quadrant,
The Pretty Things,
Gabor Szabo,
Qualms,
Prince Buster,
Ronan,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Sonics,
Lalo Schifrin,
Circle Jerks,
Radio Birdman,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.