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 Mauritania and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gang Starr to the jazz 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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
X-Ray Spex,
ABBA,
Lucky Dragons,
the Soft Cell,
The Angels of Light,
Magazine,
The Cure,
John Cale,
The New Christs,
Roxy Music,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Chris Corsano,
Matthew Bourne,
The Litter,
Bob Dylan,
Q and Not U,
The Human League,
Toni Rubio,
Fugazi,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scrapy,
Section 25,
Kurtis Blow,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Eden Ahbez,
The Fortunes,
Das Ding,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Pretty Things,
X-102,
Mad Mike,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Depeche Mode,
Spandau Ballet,
Graham Central Station,
Tomorrow,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Outsiders,
The Associates,
Soft Machine,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
New Age Steppers,
Hoover,
Mary Jane Girls,
Black Pus,
The Doors,
Archie Shepp,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mission of Burma,
Reuben Wilson,
Nas,
Sight & Sound,
Derrick Morgan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Adolescents,
Flash Fearless,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.