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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Divine Comedy to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
Colin Newman,
Monks,
Faust,
Neu!,
The Doobie Brothers,
Charles Mingus,
Pere Ubu,
Laurel Aitken,
Arab on Radar,
Fugazi,
Bill Wells,
Oneida,
Model 500,
Lucky Dragons,
Amon Düül II,
Joe Finger,
Scott Walker,
Procol Harum,
Yazoo,
Flamin' Groovies,
a-ha,
Panda Bear,
Tommy Roe,
Ice-T,
The Saints,
Cecil Taylor,
Reuben Wilson,
These Immortal Souls,
Ultravox,
The Dirtbombs,
Heaven 17,
Eve St. Jones,
Pantytec,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pulsallama,
Angry Samoans,
Roxy Music,
Black Flag,
The Slits,
Das Ding,
Desert Stars,
Scan 7,
Moby Grape,
Gichy Dan,
Blossom Toes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cabaret Voltaire,
B.T. Express,
Al Stewart,
Ken Boothe,
Mark Hollis,
Sun Ra,
Soulsonic Force,
The Zeros,
the Germs,
John Cale,
The Fuzztones,
Rites of Spring,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bauhaus,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.