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 Mauritius and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 guitar 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 Funky Four + One to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
These Immortal Souls,
X-Ray Spex,
David McCallum,
Von Mondo,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Scion,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ronnie Foster,
Qualms,
Morten Harket,
Dark Day,
Moby Grape,
Nils Olav,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Barracudas,
The Stooges,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Monolake,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pole,
Livin' Joy,
Andrew Hill,
Ponytail,
Altered Images,
The Star Department,
Malaria!,
Section 25,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Connie Case,
Little Man,
Soul Sonic Force,
Second Layer,
Man Eating Sloth,
FM Einheit,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Skatalites,
Black Bananas,
Fela Kuti,
The Velvet Underground,
Rotary Connection,
The Gun Club,
The Smoke,
John Lydon,
Patti Smith,
Unrelated Segments,
The Associates,
The Fire Engines,
Susan Cadogan,
JFA,
Television Personalities,
Ultra Naté,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Massinfluence,
Idris Muhammad,
Ornette Coleman,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Association,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Supertramp,
Davy DMX,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.