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 Indonesia and from Glasgow.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Martian to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Wasted Youth,
Donny Hathaway,
Angry Samoans,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Quadrant,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Mojo Men,
Sugar Minott,
Terrestrial Tones,
Blake Baxter,
Bobby Byrd,
Tim Buckley,
Gerry Rafferty,
Avey Tare,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
B.T. Express,
Jawbox,
The Tremeloes,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Monks,
Young Marble Giants,
The Neon Judgement,
Jerry's Kids,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Mission of Burma,
Lakeside,
The Fire Engines,
Scrapy,
Quando Quango,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Invisible,
Wally Richardson,
The Music Machine,
Smog,
The Smiths,
Tropical Tobacco,
Harmonia,
Kool Moe Dee,
David McCallum,
Nico,
Pulsallama,
Stockholm Monsters,
Infiniti,
Fad Gadget,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sonic Youth,
Patti Smith,
The Dead C,
The Gladiators,
Spandau Ballet,
Alphaville,
Crash Course in Science,
Gang Green,
Fugazi,
Brothers Johnson,
Banda Bassotti,
Freddie Wadling,
The Knickerbockers,
Black Sheep,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.