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 Afghanistan and from Milan.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 808 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 Sparks to the dance 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 The Move. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Andrew Hill,
Wally Richardson,
Cluster,
Mark Hollis,
Make Up,
Royal Trux,
Roxette,
Negative Approach,
Sällskapet,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pharoah Sanders,
Alison Limerick,
Swans,
Patti Smith,
Bobbi Humphrey,
H. Thieme,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Steve Hackett,
Country Teasers,
Joensuu 1685,
Kas Product,
Monks,
Josef K,
Pet Shop Boys,
Harry Pussy,
Zapp,
Crispy Ambulance,
Malaria!,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Shuggie Otis,
Sister Nancy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Absolute Body Control,
Kool Moe Dee,
Technova,
Lungfish,
Jandek,
Tears for Fears,
The Litter,
Drexciya,
The Blues Magoos,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Knickerbockers,
Pole,
Bluetip,
Section 25,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Leonard Cohen,
Piero Umiliani,
Accadde A,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Second Layer,
Wings,
Rosa Yemen,
The Evens,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.