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 Greece and from Beijing.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Johannesburg.
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 808 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 A Flock of Seagulls 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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Evens,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Buckinghams,
Agent Orange,
Bill Wells,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sonic Youth,
Lou Christie,
Quando Quango,
The Techniques,
Royal Trux,
Stetsasonic,
Joyce Sims,
Jacques Brel,
Trumans Water,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Quantec,
Kool Moe Dee,
DJ Sneak,
The Walker Brothers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Derrick May,
Mantronix,
Pole,
Sun Ra,
Absolute Body Control,
Marine Girls,
Eve St. Jones,
Anakelly,
Second Layer,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Index,
Ultra Naté,
The Grass Roots,
Warren Ellis,
Duran Duran,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Television,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Eddi Front,
Hoover,
Arthur Verocai,
Deadbeat,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Harry Pussy,
Rites of Spring,
Glambeats Corp.,
One Last Wish,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Altered Images,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eurythmics,
Dual Sessions,
The Velvet Underground,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Monolake,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bootsy Collins,
Arab on Radar,
Sandy B,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.