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 China and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 spring reverb 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 The Leaves to the disco 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 Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Avey Tare,
the Bar-Kays,
48th St. Collective,
The Slackers,
The Smoke,
Lindisfarne,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Walker Brothers,
the Germs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Soft Machine,
Electric Prunes,
Rod Modell,
The Human League,
Bad Manners,
The Litter,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Durutti Column,
Youth Brigade,
Monolake,
Tears for Fears,
Excepter,
The Fire Engines,
Oblivians,
Jerry's Kids,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Echospace,
Outsiders,
Rufus Thomas,
Surgeon,
The Tremeloes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
T. Rex,
Mr. Review,
Fluxion,
Section 25,
Sam Rivers,
Eurythmics,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Moss Icon,
Kerrie Biddell,
kango's stein massive,
Index,
Throbbing Gristle,
Porter Ricks,
The Knickerbockers,
The Cramps,
Swell Maps,
Gastr Del Sol,
Blossom Toes,
Judy Mowatt,
Blancmange,
Steve Hackett,
Henry Cow,
Roxy Music,
Lightning Bolt,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Soul Sonic Force,
Suicide,
Danielle Patucci,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.