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 Costa Rica and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Visage to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moebius record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
New York Dolls,
David Bowie,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Cure,
The Pop Group,
Godley & Creme,
Jeff Mills,
The Fuzztones,
Crooked Eye,
Alphaville,
Tears for Fears,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fela Kuti,
Arcadia,
New Order,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Andrew Hill,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dual Sessions,
the Normal,
The Alarm Clocks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Popol Vuh,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Moody Blues,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Suicide,
Supertramp,
Outsiders,
Monolake,
Quantec,
Brass Construction,
Can,
Icehouse,
The Gories,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Alison Limerick,
Soft Cell,
The Toasters,
F. McDonald,
Deepchord,
E-Dancer,
Anthony Braxton,
CMW,
Stereo Dub,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Misunderstood,
Nick Fraelich,
Ash Ra Tempel,
EPMD,
Robert Hood,
Grey Daturas,
Organ,
Oneida,
Ornette Coleman,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Severed Heads,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.