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 Grenada and from Accra.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Remains to the funk 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 The Move. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kayak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Qualms,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rekid,
Reuben Wilson,
The Five Americans,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bill Wells,
Delon & Dalcan,
Nas,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Golliwogs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Andrew Hill,
Surgeon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fear,
Loose Ends,
The American Breed,
Audionom,
E-Dancer,
X-Ray Spex,
John Lydon,
Hardrive,
Adolescents,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Blackbyrds,
Wire,
FM Einheit,
H. Thieme,
Magma,
Thee Headcoats,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nick Fraelich,
The Smiths,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lou Christie,
DJ Style,
Gong,
Susan Cadogan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ornette Coleman,
a-ha,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Count Five,
Sarah Menescal,
Accadde A,
The Dirtbombs,
Circle Jerks,
Barrington Levy,
David Axelrod,
the Swans,
Flash Fearless,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.