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 Venezuela and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jimmy McGriff to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Agitation Free. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Dirtbombs,
Pierre Henry,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mars,
Deakin,
Tomorrow,
Adolescents,
Lee Hazlewood,
Deadbeat,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Amon Düül,
Blancmange,
Country Teasers,
U.S. Maple,
The Moody Blues,
Newcleus,
Outsiders,
Eve St. Jones,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Roxette,
Skaos,
Roy Ayers,
Zero Boys,
Joe Smooth,
Hasil Adkins,
Robert Görl,
Eli Mardock,
Sugar Minott,
Wire,
Fugazi,
Ornette Coleman,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bang On A Can,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pulsallama,
Stetsasonic,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Avey Tare,
Jeff Mills,
ABBA,
LL Cool J,
Crooked Eye,
Scan 7,
The Barracudas,
The Fuzztones,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lucky Dragons,
Niagra,
Godley & Creme,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Johnny Osbourne,
Subhumans,
The Kinks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Technova,
James White and The Blacks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Smog,
Babytalk,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Erasure,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.