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 Somalia 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
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 Tommy Roe 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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Pantaleimon,
Gastr Del Sol,
Livin' Joy,
Chrome,
The Vogues,
Maleditus Sound,
Grauzone,
Porter Ricks,
The Skatalites,
Skaos,
Reuben Wilson,
Soft Cell,
Newcleus,
Yazoo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lebanon Hanover,
D'Angelo,
The Tremeloes,
Gabor Szabo,
Scrapy,
Scott Walker,
The Last Poets,
The Kinks,
Tears for Fears,
Nils Olav,
Rotary Connection,
Neil Young,
Andrew Hill,
The J.B.'s,
Pagans,
L. Decosne,
The Gun Club,
8 Eyed Spy,
Alton Ellis,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Minor Threat,
Bauhaus,
Tim Buckley,
Duran Duran,
Johnny Osbourne,
Television Personalities,
Funkadelic,
Accadde A,
Nik Kershaw,
Los Fastidios,
The Dirtbombs,
Sun City Girls,
Derrick Morgan,
New Order,
Tropical Tobacco,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Anthony Braxton,
Technova,
Main Source,
Jandek,
Steve Hackett,
The Techniques,
Public Image Ltd.,
Robert Hood,
The Young Rascals,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.