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 East Timor 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 organ 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 The Smiths to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
In Retrospect,
Visage,
kango's stein massive,
Lalann,
The Kinks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Surgeon,
Scratch Acid,
Wally Richardson,
Animal Collective,
Index,
Jeff Lynne,
Inner City,
Wolf Eyes,
the Germs,
Mary Jane Girls,
Stetsasonic,
Youth Brigade,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Public Image Ltd.,
Tubeway Army,
Average White Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
LL Cool J,
Todd Terry,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Althea and Donna,
Erykah Badu,
Supertramp,
Fluxion,
Skaos,
The Mojo Men,
Pet Shop Boys,
Dead Boys,
Fat Boys,
Josef K,
Babytalk,
The Standells,
Soft Machine,
Charles Mingus,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marine Girls,
Prince Buster,
The Smiths,
The Walker Brothers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Cowsills,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Barry Ungar,
Mo-Dettes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Mummies,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Marmalade,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Wire,
The Dirtbombs,
Rites of Spring,
Patti Smith,
Joyce Sims,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.