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 Papua New Guinea and from Stockholm.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Fat Boys to the electroclash 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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Ossler,
Joyce Sims,
Stetsasonic,
Patti Smith,
Fugazi,
James White and The Blacks,
The Smoke,
Echospace,
Unwound,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bill Near,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Wasted Youth,
Von Mondo,
Steve Hackett,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
UT,
A Certain Ratio,
Sun City Girls,
Lou Reed,
Franke,
Black Pus,
Skarface,
Delta 5,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Essential Logic,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Aural Exciters,
Massinfluence,
the Human League,
Sam Rivers,
Scott Walker,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mission of Burma,
Flipper,
Bluetip,
Leonard Cohen,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Barry Ungar,
Dave Gahan,
ABC,
June of 44,
Brand Nubian,
Fluxion,
The Human League,
Morten Harket,
Lakeside,
Piero Umiliani,
The Electric Prunes,
Ten City,
The Monochrome Set,
Urselle,
Roxette,
Young Marble Giants,
Sandy B,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nirvana,
Rekid,
Prince Buster,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.