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 Jamaica and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 John Foxx to the electroclash 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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Main Source,
Ornette Coleman,
John Foxx,
Severed Heads,
World's Most,
Bobby Womack,
Roger Hodgson,
The Durutti Column,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Fire Engines,
Radio Birdman,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Sonics,
Piero Umiliani,
Jesper Dahlback,
Talk Talk,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Boredoms,
Deepchord,
Tres Demented,
L. Decosne,
Mars,
Wire,
Second Layer,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Evens,
Gang Green,
Colin Newman,
Whodini,
Maurizio,
Glenn Branca,
The Velvet Underground,
Arthur Verocai,
Groovy Waters,
Fatback Band,
Roxette,
Peter & Gordon,
Agent Orange,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Roy Ayers,
Vainqueur,
Eurythmics,
Godley & Creme,
The Star Department,
Bush Tetras,
The Index,
Mandrill,
E-Dancer,
The Searchers,
Symarip,
A Flock of Seagulls,
D'Angelo,
Dawn Penn,
Black Moon,
T.S.O.L.,
New Order,
Eric Copeland,
Moebius,
Robert Hood,
Letta Mbulu,
The Happenings,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.