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 Congo and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Count Five to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sunsets and Hearts,
ABC,
Flipper,
Theoretical Girls,
Frankie Knuckles,
Simply Red,
The Last Poets,
John Foxx,
Cameo,
Minor Threat,
E-Dancer,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sex Pistols,
The Blues Magoos,
Pet Shop Boys,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Fela Kuti,
Ituana,
Fad Gadget,
Barry Ungar,
Pantytec,
Average White Band,
The Blackbyrds,
Roy Ayers,
Bang On A Can,
Ossler,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Beasts of Bourbon,
DJ Style,
Pussy Galore,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Durutti Column,
Echospace,
Heaven 17,
Jawbox,
Judy Mowatt,
Warren Ellis,
The Gap Band,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gong,
Lou Christie,
Make Up,
Roxette,
Little Man,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sparks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Moss Icon,
Television Personalities,
Bizarre Inc.,
Mo-Dettes,
Y Pants,
Matthew Bourne,
Joy Division,
Main Source,
Das Ding,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Black Pus,
Eve St. Jones,
Tomorrow,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.