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 East Timor and from Beijing.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Dead C to the disco 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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Section 25 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Brass Construction,
Rekid,
Judy Mowatt,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Excepter,
Bobby Hutcherson,
La Düsseldorf,
Throbbing Gristle,
Qualms,
MC5,
Jimmy McGriff,
Make Up,
Prince Buster,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bobby Sherman,
The Selecter,
Ornette Coleman,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pet Shop Boys,
Electric Prunes,
The Moody Blues,
Hoover,
Mad Mike,
Johnny Clarke,
Arab on Radar,
Liliput,
The Monochrome Set,
Pussy Galore,
Blossom Toes,
The Barracudas,
a-ha,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Velvet Underground,
Joe Finger,
Cluster,
The Last Poets,
Aural Exciters,
Agitation Free,
Bootsy Collins,
The Durutti Column,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Fugs,
the Soft Cell,
KRS-One,
Erasure,
Eric Dolphy,
Leonard Cohen,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Amon Düül II,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Techniques,
Can,
Fad Gadget,
Lou Christie,
Altered Images,
Public Enemy,
Reagan Youth,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.