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 Solomon Islands and from Seoul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 spring reverb 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 Robert Görl to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Joe Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
June Days,
Duran Duran,
The Cramps,
Basic Channel,
Suicide,
Godley & Creme,
The Angels of Light,
Schoolly D,
Monolake,
Anakelly,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Barbara Tucker,
Amazonics,
Derrick Morgan,
John Holt,
Sonic Youth,
Brothers Johnson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Michelle Simonal,
Roxette,
Black Moon,
The Standells,
Hot Snakes,
Tropical Tobacco,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mark Hollis,
The Stooges,
Wire,
The Fugs,
Moebius,
FM Einheit,
Make Up,
Kenny Larkin,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
L. Decosne,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Theoretical Girls,
Marshall Jefferson,
Harmonia,
Altered Images,
New Age Steppers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ultra Naté,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Guru Guru,
Mad Mike,
Mr. Review,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sugar Minott,
Neil Young,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Quando Quango,
cv313,
Lalo Schifrin,
Electric Prunes,
Eric Dolphy,
Bill Wells,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.