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 Micronesia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 These Immortal Souls to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
The Standells,
Royal Trux,
Whodini,
Pylon,
Joy Division,
CMW,
Main Source,
The Dirtbombs,
Max Romeo,
Ice-T,
kango's stein massive,
Thee Headcoats,
Dawn Penn,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hashim,
The Smiths,
Bizarre Inc.,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
One Last Wish,
The Martian,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kerri Chandler,
Gregory Isaacs,
Icehouse,
Stereo Dub,
Radio Birdman,
Accadde A,
Echospace,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sun City Girls,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Swans,
Bobby Byrd,
Little Man,
Mad Mike,
Johnny Osbourne,
Cluster,
Ken Boothe,
June Days,
Barry Ungar,
Glenn Branca,
The Barracudas,
Scratch Acid,
Second Layer,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Residents,
Eric Copeland,
Charles Mingus,
Matthew Halsall,
Sonny Sharrock,
The New Christs,
Rod Modell,
Steve Hackett,
The Doors,
Half Japanese,
Minutemen,
Ultimate Spinach,
B.T. Express,
Oblivians,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.