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 Dominica and from Jakarta.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 güiro 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 Depeche Mode to the grime 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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Lalann tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '80s.
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 Stereo Dub record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Brick,
Babytalk,
Howard Jones,
Pantytec,
The Buckinghams,
Gong,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ohio Players,
Rotary Connection,
David McCallum,
The Busters,
Talk Talk,
The Trojans,
Peter & Gordon,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Stooges,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Popol Vuh,
Janne Schatter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Angry Samoans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Suburban Knight,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fat Boys,
Bill Wells,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Fuzztones,
Black Sheep,
Rhythm & Sound,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
ABBA,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Litter,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Deadbeat,
D'Angelo,
John Holt,
OOIOO,
Matthew Bourne,
Deepchord,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Cameo,
Warsaw,
Nirvana,
Stereo Dub,
Lower 48,
Al Stewart,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Make Up,
Essential Logic,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kaleidoscope,
Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick.
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.