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 Bolivia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Television Personalities to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlback,
a-ha,
The Gories,
Mary Jane Girls,
The New Christs,
Eric Copeland,
David McCallum,
The Move,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Stooges,
Excepter,
Robert Hood,
Maurizio,
the Association,
Yellowson,
The Evens,
A Certain Ratio,
Depeche Mode,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Nico,
Moby Grape,
KRS-One,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Procol Harum,
Bobby Sherman,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Minnie Riperton,
Dead Boys,
FM Einheit,
Yusef Lateef,
The Seeds,
Ultravox,
Drexciya,
Goldenarms,
Anthony Braxton,
Althea and Donna,
The Dead C,
Yazoo,
Wally Richardson,
Avey Tare,
Fatback Band,
Kenny Larkin,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lalo Schifrin,
Connie Case,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Nik Kershaw,
Neil Young,
Gil Scott Heron,
E-Dancer,
Eric B and Rakim,
Mo-Dettes,
Wire,
Soul II Soul,
Altered Images,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lyres,
Ronan,
Reuben Wilson,
Alphaville,
Index,
The Birthday Party,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.