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 Solomon Islands and from Salvador.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
La Düsseldorf,
Al Stewart,
Bauhaus,
Camouflage,
Eurythmics,
OOIOO,
Monks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Peter & Gordon,
Kerrie Biddell,
Drexciya,
Barbara Tucker,
Rosa Yemen,
Fugazi,
Black Flag,
David Bowie,
Little Man,
New York Dolls,
Glenn Branca,
Whodini,
Soft Machine,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Flash Fearless,
Jesper Dahlback,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Dirtbombs,
The Black Dice,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Zeros,
Moss Icon,
Section 25,
Eden Ahbez,
Clear Light,
the Bar-Kays,
Eric Copeland,
kango's stein massive,
Kevin Saunderson,
CMW,
Sex Pistols,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Suburban Knight,
Heaven 17,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sister Nancy,
10cc,
a-ha,
The Shadows of Knight,
The American Breed,
Slick Rick,
The Fortunes,
Johnny Clarke,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Blues Magoos,
Joensuu 1685,
Anakelly,
Zero Boys,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.