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 Botswana and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Detroit Cobras to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Names record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Roxy Music,
John Coltrane,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Das Ding,
Black Flag,
Buzzcocks,
PIL,
Matthew Bourne,
Second Layer,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pantytec,
Soft Cell,
Tim Buckley,
Neu!,
Scan 7,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Star Department,
Eddi Front,
Monks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mary Jane Girls,
Crash Course in Science,
Robert Görl,
Morten Harket,
Organ,
Q65,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
R.M.O.,
Toni Rubio,
Grey Daturas,
8 Eyed Spy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gang Gang Dance,
Harry Pussy,
ABC,
Yaz,
the Swans,
Kas Product,
Gabor Szabo,
Harmonia,
Lightning Bolt,
Aural Exciters,
The Associates,
The Gun Club,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fluxion,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Evens,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Massinfluence,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Pop Group,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Arab on Radar,
The Blackbyrds,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Cheater Slicks,
Soul II Soul,
Lou Christie,
Brothers Johnson,
LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J.
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.