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 Belarus and from Hong Kong.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Crispy Ambulance to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Zapp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Ronan,
Sexual Harrassment,
Laurel Aitken,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Zeros,
Drive Like Jehu,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Fortunes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Archie Shepp,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bronski Beat,
Marvin Gaye,
Gang of Four,
Nik Kershaw,
Qualms,
Skriet,
Ralphi Rosario,
D'Angelo,
Max Romeo,
Nas,
Dark Day,
Scientists,
The Star Department,
The Associates,
Youth Brigade,
The Smiths,
Suicide,
Reuben Wilson,
Underground Resistance,
Niagra,
The New Christs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bobby Sherman,
Rotary Connection,
Accadde A,
The Standells,
Erykah Badu,
Joy Division,
Guru Guru,
Rites of Spring,
Warren Ellis,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Malaria!,
Barbara Tucker,
Gerry Rafferty,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Banda Bassotti,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sugar Minott,
Lou Christie,
Main Source,
Sällskapet,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gil Scott Heron,
Visage,
Marc Almond,
Groovy Waters,
Jeff Mills,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.