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 Iraq and from Tehran.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Mad Mike to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Aaron Thompson. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moss Icon,
Minny Pops,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
EPMD,
Faust,
the Normal,
Hoover,
Echospace,
The Zeros,
Roxette,
the Sonics,
Cheater Slicks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Barry Ungar,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Soft Machine,
The Dirtbombs,
Soulsonic Force,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Aswad,
Roy Ayers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mark Hollis,
The Black Dice,
Wire,
Deepchord,
Hardrive,
Flipper,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Cramps,
Mandrill,
The Divine Comedy,
The Star Department,
Schoolly D,
Spandau Ballet,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Maurizio,
Drive Like Jehu,
a-ha,
Buzzcocks,
Groovy Waters,
La Düsseldorf,
Angry Samoans,
Basic Channel,
Isaac Hayes,
Kenny Larkin,
The Saints,
Yellowson,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sällskapet,
Todd Terry,
Bob Dylan,
Danielle Patucci,
Fatback Band,
Bobby Sherman,
Qualms,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rufus Thomas,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Selecter,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.