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 Micronesia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 organ 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 Sparks to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
kango's stein massive,
Peter and Kerry,
Yellowson,
MC5,
Make Up,
Young Marble Giants,
KRS-One,
Masters at Work,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
These Immortal Souls,
Tommy Roe,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pere Ubu,
Absolute Body Control,
The Gladiators,
Scrapy,
Kaleidoscope,
K-Klass,
Robert Hood,
Flash Fearless,
Duran Duran,
Ronnie Foster,
The Blackbyrds,
ABBA,
Marcia Griffiths,
Technova,
Mr. Review,
Electric Prunes,
The Victims,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Stereo Dub,
Al Stewart,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Curtis Mayfield,
Joy Division,
The Fortunes,
Carl Craig,
Barry Ungar,
Hot Snakes,
Girls At Our Best!,
Black Pus,
Delon & Dalcan,
China Crisis,
Au Pairs,
Jeff Lynne,
Barclay James Harvest,
Eddi Front,
Chris & Cosey,
Davy DMX,
John Foxx,
Black Bananas,
Vladislav Delay,
Pagans,
Fatback Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Evens,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Letta Mbulu,
Ken Boothe,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.