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 Austria and from Mumbai.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Real Kids to the crunk 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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oblivians record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
Quando Quango,
The Barracudas,
Mark Hollis,
Oneida,
Main Source,
Marine Girls,
Yellowson,
Minor Threat,
Barrington Levy,
The Associates,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jesper Dahlback,
Tears for Fears,
Godley & Creme,
Supertramp,
Scrapy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Normal,
Severed Heads,
The Gun Club,
Fear,
Eve St. Jones,
Jawbox,
Steve Hackett,
Suburban Knight,
Sandy B,
Laurel Aitken,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lou Reed,
Eric Copeland,
Pagans,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Wasted Youth,
Bush Tetras,
the Human League,
Fluxion,
The Busters,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Red Krayola,
Angry Samoans,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
New Age Steppers,
Saccharine Trust,
Amazonics,
Minny Pops,
Wally Richardson,
Outsiders,
Ossler,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
cv313,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Golliwogs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Toasters,
Motorama,
Bronski Beat,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Anthony Braxton,
Don Cherry,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.