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 South Sudan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 Buzzcocks to the rock 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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Davy DMX,
Charles Mingus,
Electric Prunes,
The Residents,
Young Marble Giants,
Groovy Waters,
Hasil Adkins,
EPMD,
Radio Birdman,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ultravox,
Funky Four + One,
Flash Fearless,
Rakim,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sparks,
Can,
Tears for Fears,
K-Klass,
48th St. Collective,
Con Funk Shun,
Delta 5,
Nico,
kango's stein massive,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Index,
Dennis Brown,
The Saints,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Derrick Morgan,
Curtis Mayfield,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Whodini,
Spandau Ballet,
John Cale,
The Vogues,
Iggy Pop,
Grauzone,
Cheater Slicks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Khruangbin,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
DNA,
Radiopuhelimet,
Malaria!,
Fatback Band,
Jeff Lynne,
Gang Green,
Rekid,
The Modern Lovers,
This Heat,
Pantytec,
Nick Fraelich,
Underground Resistance,
New Age Steppers,
Blake Baxter,
Fad Gadget,
Ronan,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.