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 Nepal and from Copenhagen.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord 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 Wolf Eyes to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Loose Ends,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Black Dice,
Depeche Mode,
Procol Harum,
Swell Maps,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Mummies,
Con Funk Shun,
CMW,
Radio Birdman,
The Fall,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Audionom,
Parry Music,
Reuben Wilson,
Janne Schatter,
DJ Sneak,
John Holt,
Alison Limerick,
Sam Rivers,
Shoche,
Marine Girls,
Saccharine Trust,
The Moody Blues,
Ohio Players,
Second Layer,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ultravox,
Eric Copeland,
David Bowie,
Cymande,
Morten Harket,
Funky Four + One,
Y Pants,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Supertramp,
Junior Murvin,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Terry Callier,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Mojo Men,
Al Stewart,
Trumans Water,
The Remains,
Heaven 17,
Eli Mardock,
Quantec,
Malaria!,
The Last Poets,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Misunderstood,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Barry Ungar,
Kerri Chandler,
The Sound,
Gang Green,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.