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 Fiji and from London.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Accra.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
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 The Gladiators to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Eric Dolphy,
Rosa Yemen,
The Slits,
Cameo,
Sixth Finger,
This Heat,
Toni Rubio,
Wally Richardson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Boz Scaggs,
Dual Sessions,
The Victims,
Fort Wilson Riot,
PIL,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Swans,
Ultravox,
Shuggie Otis,
Marvin Gaye,
DJ Sneak,
Cecil Taylor,
Skriet,
Crime,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dennis Brown,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Amazonics,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Minutemen,
Basic Channel,
Howard Jones,
Maurizio,
Aaron Thompson,
Derrick May,
ABBA,
FM Einheit,
Quando Quango,
Ken Boothe,
The Fire Engines,
Judy Mowatt,
Wolf Eyes,
Bobby Byrd,
The Walker Brothers,
Quantec,
Joe Smooth,
Peter & Gordon,
The Fall,
Jawbox,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pole,
Trumans Water,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mo-Dettes,
ABC,
Brothers Johnson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Cramps,
KRS-One,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.