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 Sweden and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 linndrum 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sound. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
These Immortal Souls,
The Modern Lovers,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Zeros,
The Shadows of Knight,
CMW,
the Human League,
Soulsonic Force,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
Swell Maps,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Faraquet,
Idris Muhammad,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The United States of America,
Nico,
Joey Negro,
Ponytail,
Bootsy Collins,
The Blues Magoos,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Joe Finger,
Thee Headcoats,
Glambeats Corp.,
Howard Jones,
Magazine,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
T. Rex,
The Last Poets,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eric Copeland,
Pagans,
Fear,
The Happenings,
Vainqueur,
Visage,
Bluetip,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Radiopuhelimet,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bang On A Can,
Q and Not U,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Hoover,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Grass Roots,
The Durutti Column,
Lindisfarne,
Procol Harum,
Arab on Radar,
DJ Style,
Fad Gadget,
Intrusion,
Tim Buckley,
Sam Rivers,
The Dead C,
Yazoo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Amon Düül II,
The Evens,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.