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 Kosovo and from Milan.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Tubeway Army to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Leonard Cohen. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
R.M.O.,
Kerri Chandler,
Reagan Youth,
The Cowsills,
Whodini,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Royal Trux,
Malaria!,
Rufus Thomas,
Half Japanese,
Gong,
Cluster,
Black Flag,
Donald Byrd,
Saccharine Trust,
Soft Machine,
Suburban Knight,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Byron Stingily,
Black Bananas,
Freddie Wadling,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Judy Mowatt,
Tomorrow,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Slits,
Public Enemy,
the Human League,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Althea and Donna,
Davy DMX,
The Wake,
Crash Course in Science,
Dead Boys,
Can,
Schoolly D,
The Gap Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
Au Pairs,
Blancmange,
Electric Prunes,
Bluetip,
Scan 7,
Cecil Taylor,
The Litter,
Spoonie Gee,
Grey Daturas,
Idris Muhammad,
Lee Hazlewood,
Soulsonic Force,
Peter and Kerry,
Joe Finger,
The Star Department,
Public Image Ltd.,
Nils Olav,
Sound Behaviour,
Fugazi,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.