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 Cyprus and from Bologna.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 808 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 In Retrospect to the rock 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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dave Gahan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Simply Red,
Dual Sessions,
Harpers Bizarre,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tomorrow,
MC5,
The Trojans,
Technova,
B.T. Express,
Can,
Livin' Joy,
The Saints,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
June of 44,
Talk Talk,
Junior Murvin,
Lower 48,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Excepter,
Television,
Mars,
Half Japanese,
Quadrant,
Henry Cow,
Saccharine Trust,
Bob Dylan,
Altered Images,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Victims,
Ultra Naté,
L. Decosne,
The New Christs,
Godley & Creme,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Alison Limerick,
Bobby Womack,
The Black Dice,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Boredoms,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Graham Central Station,
The Music Machine,
H. Thieme,
Cal Tjader,
Roxy Music,
Kaleidoscope,
Vainqueur,
the Bar-Kays,
Sixth Finger,
Curtis Mayfield,
Monks,
Malaria!,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wings,
In Retrospect,
Amon Düül,
Nils Olav,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.