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 Suriname and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 rhodes 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 Bluetip to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
cv313,
Sex Pistols,
Skriet,
Deakin,
Ossler,
Funky Four + One,
Blake Baxter,
Lou Reed,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Hardrive,
Yaz,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Mission of Burma,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Birthday Party,
Rod Modell,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Matthew Halsall,
Camberwell Now,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Minny Pops,
New Age Steppers,
Scientists,
Amazonics,
Cecil Taylor,
Boredoms,
The Human League,
Moebius,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Doors,
Derrick May,
Ken Boothe,
Groovy Waters,
Slick Rick,
Spoonie Gee,
Yellowson,
John Holt,
Funkadelic,
Outsiders,
Barrington Levy,
Joe Finger,
Loose Ends,
Patti Smith,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Isaac Hayes,
Eddi Front,
The Five Americans,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Thee Headcoats,
The Associates,
Excepter,
Donald Byrd,
Traffic Nightmare,
Glambeats Corp.,
Average White Band,
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.