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 Romania and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Copenhagen.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Bill Near to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
James White and The Blacks,
Bad Manners,
Robert Hood,
Symarip,
Godley & Creme,
Sam Rivers,
Joe Finger,
Tim Buckley,
Unwound,
The Busters,
Lyres,
The Sound,
The Grass Roots,
Public Image Ltd.,
Alton Ellis,
Glambeats Corp.,
Minnie Riperton,
Ten City,
Stetsasonic,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Cure,
Henry Cow,
The Black Dice,
Yellowson,
China Crisis,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Black Flag,
L. Decosne,
the Germs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
DJ Style,
Grauzone,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bill Wells,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Sonics,
Sandy B,
EPMD,
Malaria!,
Amazonics,
Man Parrish,
Gang Starr,
Con Funk Shun,
Accadde A,
Todd Terry,
Wings,
X-102,
Sun Ra,
The Smiths,
Bill Near,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Darondo,
The Count Five,
The Move,
Rufus Thomas,
Alison Limerick,
These Immortal Souls,
Piero Umiliani,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.