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 Yemen and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 güiro 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television Personalities record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sound Behaviour,
Pantytec,
Electric Prunes,
Brick,
The Raincoats,
Bauhaus,
Pylon,
Josef K,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Matthew Halsall,
The Smoke,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Modern Lovers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Alison Limerick,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Happenings,
Interpol,
The Knickerbockers,
The Electric Prunes,
The Cowsills,
Reagan Youth,
Funky Four + One,
U.S. Maple,
The Beau Brummels,
T. Rex,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Fortunes,
Bush Tetras,
Grey Daturas,
John Foxx,
Yusef Lateef,
Bobby Byrd,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Normal,
Marvin Gaye,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Hot Snakes,
Ossler,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dark Day,
Guru Guru,
The Divine Comedy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Invisible,
Alton Ellis,
John Lydon,
Faust,
Brand Nubian,
Laurel Aitken,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ten City,
Supertramp,
Visage,
The Moody Blues,
Magazine,
B.T. Express,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.