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 Niger and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Bremen.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 David Bowie to the funk 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 the Slits. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Altered Images,
Circle Jerks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
FM Einheit,
Surgeon,
R.M.O.,
Al Stewart,
These Immortal Souls,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The New Christs,
Susan Cadogan,
The Evens,
Thompson Twins,
Pussy Galore,
Scratch Acid,
Brick,
Mandrill,
Urselle,
The Doobie Brothers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ornette Coleman,
The Dave Clark Five,
Franke,
Jerry Gold Smith,
John Lydon,
a-ha,
Kevin Saunderson,
Massinfluence,
Shuggie Otis,
The Count Five,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bobbi Humphrey,
PIL,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ponytail,
Barry Ungar,
Spandau Ballet,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Brand Nubian,
Public Enemy,
Dual Sessions,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Cybotron,
Roxy Music,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Audionom,
Steve Hackett,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fad Gadget,
Eyeless In Gaza,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lakeside,
Hasil Adkins,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Association,
Fugazi,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.