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 Montenegro and from Columbus.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 X-102 to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
Harry Pussy,
Deakin,
Organ,
Robert Hood,
Thee Headcoats,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Velvet Underground,
The Seeds,
Roxette,
Rod Modell,
The Wake,
Suburban Knight,
Lyres,
Henry Cow,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
T.S.O.L.,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Cowsills,
Marc Almond,
Bob Dylan,
Simply Red,
Hasil Adkins,
Roy Ayers,
The Kinks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Surgeon,
Inner City,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Schoolly D,
Sister Nancy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Residents,
Lalann,
The Saints,
kango's stein massive,
Technova,
Don Cherry,
FM Einheit,
Minnie Riperton,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Monks,
Young Marble Giants,
Blake Baxter,
Joe Smooth,
Massinfluence,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Clear Light,
Bobby Womack,
Glenn Branca,
Skarface,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Association,
The Cramps,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Depeche Mode,
The Durutti Column,
David McCallum,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.