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 Lesotho and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin 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 DNA to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Saccharine Trust,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Oneida,
The Mummies,
Cluster,
DJ Style,
Warren Ellis,
Lyres,
Yellowson,
Vainqueur,
The Saints,
Danielle Patucci,
Arthur Verocai,
Tomorrow,
The Martian,
Jeff Lynne,
Chris Corsano,
The Count Five,
Faraquet,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Graham Central Station,
Crime,
Gregory Isaacs,
Glambeats Corp.,
K-Klass,
Oblivians,
Cal Tjader,
The Victims,
Nik Kershaw,
Average White Band,
The Walker Brothers,
Barbara Tucker,
The Human League,
Sister Nancy,
Second Layer,
Fat Boys,
Television Personalities,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Dirtbombs,
Camouflage,
Gastr Del Sol,
Banda Bassotti,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Black Bananas,
Rotary Connection,
The Red Krayola,
Flipper,
The Fall,
Agent Orange,
Television,
Bobby Byrd,
Popol Vuh,
Ice-T,
Little Man,
Darondo,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fortunes,
Leonard Cohen,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.