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 Luxembourg and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 rhodes 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 X-Ray Spex to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Con Funk Shun,
Don Cherry,
Ludus,
Man Parrish,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Saccharine Trust,
Rites of Spring,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Swell Maps,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Little Man,
8 Eyed Spy,
Masters at Work,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Scrapy,
Blake Baxter,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Joy Division,
June Days,
Rosa Yemen,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tres Demented,
Boz Scaggs,
The Fuzztones,
Mr. Review,
The Motions,
Kerri Chandler,
The Last Poets,
Cameo,
Althea and Donna,
Crime,
Mo-Dettes,
Skriet,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Toasters,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Black Flag,
Sonic Youth,
Popol Vuh,
Bad Manners,
Gang Starr,
Lightning Bolt,
Roy Ayers,
The Cramps,
The Divine Comedy,
The Remains,
Flash Fearless,
Brothers Johnson,
Radiohead,
Barrington Levy,
In Retrospect,
Jeru the Damaja,
Prince Buster,
The Real Kids,
The Neon Judgement,
The Litter,
Dead Boys,
Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet.
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.