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 Egypt 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 spring reverb 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 Average White Band to the techno 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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
The Blackbyrds,
Terry Callier,
Prince Buster,
Kas Product,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bauhaus,
Gang Green,
Boredoms,
Eddi Front,
The Music Machine,
Nik Kershaw,
Warsaw,
The Fugs,
The Modern Lovers,
Metal Thangz,
Livin' Joy,
Agitation Free,
Public Image Ltd.,
Connie Case,
Heaven 17,
Danielle Patucci,
Qualms,
Tears for Fears,
The Buckinghams,
Neu!,
Rod Modell,
Marvin Gaye,
The Dead C,
Pylon,
Alison Limerick,
Newcleus,
Moss Icon,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Stooges,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Camberwell Now,
The Flesh Eaters,
Laurel Aitken,
K-Klass,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Tubeway Army,
Bush Tetras,
Youth Brigade,
The Moody Blues,
Con Funk Shun,
Jeff Mills,
Marc Almond,
Crash Course in Science,
LL Cool J,
Mark Hollis,
Drive Like Jehu,
Model 500,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Motions,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Inner City,
the Human League,
Andrew Hill,
Avey Tare,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.