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 Brazil and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Shanghai.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the oboe 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 Banda Bassotti to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Negative Approach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Deakin,
Japan,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Crime,
Ornette Coleman,
Goldenarms,
John Foxx,
The Leaves,
The Wake,
Amon Düül,
MC5,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Circle Jerks,
Minny Pops,
Todd Rundgren,
The New Christs,
Dual Sessions,
Bronski Beat,
Ronan,
Sarah Menescal,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Camberwell Now,
Accadde A,
New Order,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kerri Chandler,
Warsaw,
Dead Boys,
Magma,
Flipper,
Cecil Taylor,
Grauzone,
Gong,
The Golliwogs,
Quadrant,
Rakim,
Scratch Acid,
Suicide,
Maurizio,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bush Tetras,
Marmalade,
the Germs,
Pet Shop Boys,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Hoover,
Lyres,
Gil Scott Heron,
DNA,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bobby Sherman,
the Swans,
Faust,
Mo-Dettes,
Sällskapet,
Carl Craig,
Amazonics,
Matthew Halsall,
Lou Reed,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.