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 Poland and from Glasgow.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tehran.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Average White Band to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin 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 clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lucky Dragons,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Last Poets,
Lyres,
X-101,
Infiniti,
Ice-T,
Country Teasers,
Young Marble Giants,
The Motions,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Faust,
Visage,
Severed Heads,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Guru Guru,
Qualms,
Hoover,
X-Ray Spex,
The Slackers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Brothers Johnson,
Loose Ends,
Warsaw,
PIL,
Sällskapet,
Jacques Brel,
Minutemen,
Soulsonic Force,
The Busters,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bad Manners,
Camouflage,
Reagan Youth,
Juan Atkins,
Siglo XX,
Chrome,
Harmonia,
Quando Quango,
The Buckinghams,
Toni Rubio,
Ohio Players,
Thee Headcoats,
MDC,
Gregory Isaacs,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Royal Trux,
Letta Mbulu,
La Düsseldorf,
Swell Maps,
Funky Four + One,
Tommy Roe,
Reuben Wilson,
Davy DMX,
Public Enemy,
The Gories,
the Normal,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Masters at Work,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.