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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Stockholm Monsters to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Sonics,
Ice-T,
Erasure,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Banda Bassotti,
Brand Nubian,
Amon Düül,
Bill Wells,
Beasts of Bourbon,
X-Ray Spex,
Janne Schatter,
Essential Logic,
Yellowson,
The Martian,
OOIOO,
The Standells,
The Smoke,
Barbara Tucker,
Judy Mowatt,
Robert Görl,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bobby Womack,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ituana,
Joey Negro,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jeff Lynne,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Stiv Bators,
Japan,
Kaleidoscope,
Soulsonic Force,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Marvin Gaye,
The New Christs,
The Invisible,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sixth Finger,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Beau Brummels,
the Association,
Jacob Miller,
Patti Smith,
CMW,
Bad Manners,
New Order,
Franke,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gabor Szabo,
The Mummies,
Pantytec,
Gastr Del Sol,
Warren Ellis,
Johnny Osbourne,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The American Breed,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Doors,
The Pretty Things,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.