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 Azerbaijan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Erykah Badu to the rock 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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Roxy Music,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Gun Club,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Symarip,
Ken Boothe,
The Last Poets,
10cc,
Scratch Acid,
Blossom Toes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Brothers Johnson,
Drive Like Jehu,
Cybotron,
Inner City,
June of 44,
Nick Fraelich,
Camberwell Now,
Robert Wyatt,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Barrington Levy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Saccharine Trust,
Junior Murvin,
Sam Rivers,
The Real Kids,
Masters at Work,
Joe Smooth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Y Pants,
ABBA,
Josef K,
The Angels of Light,
Scan 7,
Altered Images,
The Searchers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Sparks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Delta 5,
Ornette Coleman,
John Lydon,
The United States of America,
Jandek,
48th St. Collective,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lungfish,
Crash Course in Science,
Popol Vuh,
The Invisible,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Tim Buckley,
Wolf Eyes,
Bill Near,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jawbox,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.