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 Angola and from Glasgow.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Stereo Dub to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dual Sessions 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Tommy Roe,
Bad Manners,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Heaven 17,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Vladislav Delay,
The J.B.'s,
Black Moon,
The New Christs,
ABBA,
Average White Band,
Nico,
Niagra,
John Foxx,
Jacob Miller,
Kerrie Biddell,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Scan 7,
the Human League,
Bobby Byrd,
Jerry's Kids,
June of 44,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Accadde A,
Glenn Branca,
The Litter,
New Age Steppers,
Moebius,
Jesper Dahlback,
Joe Finger,
Rosa Yemen,
Sexual Harrassment,
Shoche,
The Martian,
The Fugs,
The Buckinghams,
The Gladiators,
Hot Snakes,
Grey Daturas,
Throbbing Gristle,
Blake Baxter,
Metal Thangz,
Marine Girls,
Warren Ellis,
Neu!,
Altered Images,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Normal,
The United States of America,
Deadbeat,
Eve St. Jones,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rotary Connection,
Oblivians,
Yazoo,
Albert Ayler,
Popol Vuh,
Television,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.