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 Singapore and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Move to the grunge 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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dennis Brown,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Skarface,
The Cowsills,
The Dead C,
Harmonia,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Fad Gadget,
MDC,
Pet Shop Boys,
Theoretical Girls,
Terry Callier,
Trumans Water,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Barry Ungar,
Jeff Lynne,
Roxette,
Albert Ayler,
Scrapy,
Althea and Donna,
The Gladiators,
Crooked Eye,
Ice-T,
Rod Modell,
The Trojans,
Flash Fearless,
Crispian St. Peters,
Quando Quango,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mo-Dettes,
In Retrospect,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Black Dice,
Rosa Yemen,
Susan Cadogan,
Make Up,
Depeche Mode,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Isaac Hayes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Organ,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Yaz,
New Age Steppers,
the Bar-Kays,
Sight & Sound,
Brothers Johnson,
Lyres,
Peter & Gordon,
CMW,
Minnie Riperton,
John Holt,
Moebius,
Gerry Rafferty,
X-Ray Spex,
Sugar Minott,
Gichy Dan,
Anthony Braxton,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.