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 United Kingdom and from Paris.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the grime 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warren Ellis,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Camouflage,
Outsiders,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Aural Exciters,
Deepchord,
Organ,
Severed Heads,
Minny Pops,
H. Thieme,
The Toasters,
The Dead C,
The Last Poets,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Duran Duran,
Albert Ayler,
David Axelrod,
Amazonics,
Mission of Burma,
Eden Ahbez,
Faust,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jacques Brel,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
DJ Sneak,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Shadows of Knight,
Anakelly,
Japan,
ABBA,
Massinfluence,
The Moleskins,
Janne Schatter,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Skatalites,
The Velvet Underground,
Bob Dylan,
Yazoo,
The Pretty Things,
The Smiths,
Max Romeo,
Basic Channel,
Althea and Donna,
Negative Approach,
Dennis Brown,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
MC5,
The Sonics,
The Cramps,
The Litter,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Nation of Ulysses,
Amon Düül II,
Hoover,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Drexciya,
Dark Day,
Ultra Naté,
Juan Atkins,
Dead Boys,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.