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 Haiti and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Nirvana to the rap 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 The Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiohead,
Suburban Knight,
Soft Cell,
Sarah Menescal,
E-Dancer,
Arthur Verocai,
Fugazi,
The Human League,
Metal Thangz,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jacques Brel,
Icehouse,
Q and Not U,
EPMD,
ABC,
Piero Umiliani,
PIL,
Masters at Work,
Dawn Penn,
David McCallum,
The Wake,
Gregory Isaacs,
Talk Talk,
Letta Mbulu,
the Sonics,
U.S. Maple,
Man Parrish,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bobby Womack,
The Slits,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Simply Red,
Essential Logic,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Index,
Harpers Bizarre,
Slave,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Monks,
Josef K,
Zero Boys,
Adolescents,
Harry Pussy,
Quando Quango,
Charles Mingus,
Barbara Tucker,
Sam Rivers,
June Days,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Chrome,
Excepter,
The Red Krayola,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Zeros,
Boz Scaggs,
Howard Jones,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Scrapy,
Boredoms,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.