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 Netherlands and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Real Kids 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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
June Days,
Rakim,
Das Ding,
Todd Rundgren,
The Real Kids,
The Barracudas,
Half Japanese,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Adolescents,
Saccharine Trust,
Matthew Bourne,
Organ,
Tubeway Army,
The Sound,
Symarip,
Roger Hodgson,
Thee Headcoats,
Crooked Eye,
Desert Stars,
MC5,
The Busters,
The New Christs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Little Man,
Yaz,
Hashim,
The Searchers,
Ohio Players,
Rosa Yemen,
Joe Finger,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Agitation Free,
Chris Corsano,
Lucky Dragons,
Patti Smith,
The Cure,
New Age Steppers,
Television Personalities,
Morten Harket,
The Misunderstood,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cecil Taylor,
Altered Images,
48th St. Collective,
Amon Düül,
The Smiths,
Graham Central Station,
David Bowie,
the Association,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hoover,
World's Most,
Moby Grape,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Metal Thangz,
The Buckinghams,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.