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 Indonesia and from Philadelphia.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Durutti Column to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Offenders,
Audionom,
The United States of America,
X-Ray Spex,
The Cramps,
Nils Olav,
Sixth Finger,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Deadbeat,
The Dead C,
Los Fastidios,
Sällskapet,
Bad Manners,
The Sonics,
Janne Schatter,
Sarah Menescal,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Move,
Ice-T,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Roxette,
Heaven 17,
The Smiths,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Theoretical Girls,
Agent Orange,
PIL,
Warren Ellis,
Frankie Knuckles,
Surgeon,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lucky Dragons,
Panda Bear,
Rapeman,
Flamin' Groovies,
Aaron Thompson,
Blake Baxter,
F. McDonald,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pulsallama,
Max Romeo,
48th St. Collective,
The Misunderstood,
Lindisfarne,
La Düsseldorf,
Mark Hollis,
Babytalk,
Skriet,
Con Funk Shun,
Stereo Dub,
Lalann,
The Fall,
The Busters,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Gladiators,
Jeru the Damaja,
Model 500,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Flipper,
Index,
Masters at Work,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron, Terror Squad Feat. Camron, Terror Squad Feat. Camron, Terror Squad Feat. Camron.
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.