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 Somalia and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Mantronix to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Busters. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kevin Saunderson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Newcleus,
Jeff Lynne,
Scion,
DJ Style,
Saccharine Trust,
the Germs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pagans,
The Last Poets,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rakim,
The Pop Group,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Interpol,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Section 25,
ABBA,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Donald Byrd,
Sex Pistols,
Barbara Tucker,
The Names,
Black Flag,
David McCallum,
Marmalade,
Tim Buckley,
Gichy Dan,
New Order,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The New Christs,
The Martian,
The Young Rascals,
PIL,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Joensuu 1685,
8 Eyed Spy,
Funky Four + One,
John Foxx,
Goldenarms,
Chris Corsano,
Radiopuhelimet,
Slave,
Idris Muhammad,
Byron Stingily,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ornette Coleman,
The Fugs,
48th St. Collective,
The Sonics,
Lee Hazlewood,
Barry Ungar,
The Mummies,
June of 44,
Alton Ellis,
The Gun Club,
Zapp,
Vainqueur,
Roxette,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.