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 Equatorial Guinea and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Johannesburg.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Warren Ellis to the rock 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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
Fat Boys,
Porter Ricks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Desert Stars,
Brand Nubian,
The Toasters,
Jeff Mills,
Lower 48,
Bush Tetras,
Wally Richardson,
Mary Jane Girls,
June of 44,
Pierre Henry,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scientists,
Black Flag,
Liliput,
Bobby Womack,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
X-Ray Spex,
Main Source,
Mo-Dettes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Slits,
Fela Kuti,
Crash Course in Science,
Popol Vuh,
Wolf Eyes,
Mandrill,
The Zeros,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marcia Griffiths,
Don Cherry,
Duran Duran,
Thee Headcoats,
Stockholm Monsters,
Amazonics,
Boz Scaggs,
Organ,
Rekid,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Silicon Teens,
June Days,
Eurythmics,
Massinfluence,
Roger Hodgson,
Bad Manners,
New Order,
Dave Gahan,
Blake Baxter,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pussy Galore,
Sarah Menescal,
Toni Rubio,
Henry Cow,
The Black Dice,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Arcadia,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
China Crisis,
Clear Light,
Sexual Harrassment,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.