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 Slovenia and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 808 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 Dead Boys to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
The Gap Band,
X-Ray Spex,
The Kinks,
Saccharine Trust,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Drexciya,
Yellowson,
Rotary Connection,
Oblivians,
Idris Muhammad,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tres Demented,
Can,
Panda Bear,
Tubeway Army,
Byron Stingily,
Radiohead,
Au Pairs,
Bobby Womack,
The Litter,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mary Jane Girls,
Parry Music,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cymande,
The Blackbyrds,
Brand Nubian,
Warsaw,
Sexual Harrassment,
Duran Duran,
Radio Birdman,
Depeche Mode,
Underground Resistance,
Dawn Penn,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Iggy Pop,
Blake Baxter,
Eden Ahbez,
Electric Prunes,
Wire,
Lucky Dragons,
Marine Girls,
Terry Callier,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Patti Smith,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fall,
Bang On A Can,
Eli Mardock,
T.S.O.L.,
CMW,
Blossom Toes,
Popol Vuh,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kas Product,
Arcadia,
Dave Gahan,
Aural Exciters,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap.
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.