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 Somalia and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Crime to the grunge 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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
Spoonie Gee,
Maleditus Sound,
Dead Boys,
Pharoah Sanders,
Shuggie Otis,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Selecter,
Radio Birdman,
Whodini,
the Normal,
The Trojans,
X-102,
The Happenings,
Sun Ra,
The Black Dice,
Television,
Sixth Finger,
cv313,
Derrick May,
Das Ding,
Grey Daturas,
Ten City,
Barrington Levy,
The Misunderstood,
Todd Rundgren,
The Wake,
Excepter,
Wings,
Graham Central Station,
Vainqueur,
Ludus,
Flipper,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Martian,
Mr. Review,
Boredoms,
Nik Kershaw,
Henry Cow,
Yazoo,
Matthew Bourne,
Rufus Thomas,
Flash Fearless,
Shoche,
Warren Ellis,
Robert Görl,
Albert Ayler,
Kerrie Biddell,
Public Image Ltd.,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Liliput,
Sun City Girls,
Hashim,
The Gun Club,
MDC,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ultravox,
Lakeside,
John Foxx,
Underground Resistance,
Lalo Schifrin,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.