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 Benin and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents 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 güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Tom Boy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Camouflage,
the Swans,
Pussy Galore,
Television,
Lower 48,
Roxy Music,
The Last Poets,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Janne Schatter,
Shuggie Otis,
Kayak,
Eric B and Rakim,
Talk Talk,
the Soft Cell,
Robert Hood,
X-Ray Spex,
Ralphi Rosario,
Wire,
Darondo,
Adolescents,
Bizarre Inc.,
Circle Jerks,
World's Most,
Whodini,
Qualms,
X-101,
MDC,
Fatback Band,
R.M.O.,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Gories,
The Red Krayola,
Blancmange,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Misunderstood,
Leonard Cohen,
The Fortunes,
Faust,
Inner City,
The Dead C,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Colin Newman,
Curtis Mayfield,
Skaos,
Henry Cow,
Bobby Womack,
Oneida,
Matthew Bourne,
Sound Behaviour,
Gichy Dan,
A Certain Ratio,
James White and The Blacks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Monolake,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.