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 Djibouti and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the snare 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 Tubeway Army to the crunk 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 Zero Boys. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
The Saints,
The Dave Clark Five,
Funkadelic,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Loose Ends,
Rapeman,
Bizarre Inc.,
Kevin Saunderson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Warsaw,
Kerri Chandler,
Oblivians,
Sight & Sound,
Jerry's Kids,
Black Flag,
Sexual Harrassment,
Banda Bassotti,
Tomorrow,
Bootsy Collins,
Sixth Finger,
LL Cool J,
The Golliwogs,
Jawbox,
Gil Scott Heron,
Toni Rubio,
Judy Mowatt,
The American Breed,
Connie Case,
Ludus,
The Smoke,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Reagan Youth,
Alice Coltrane,
DJ Sneak,
Model 500,
The Offenders,
The Durutti Column,
Stiv Bators,
The Gladiators,
Trumans Water,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Unrelated Segments,
Andrew Hill,
Yaz,
Livin' Joy,
Bill Wells,
Urselle,
Bush Tetras,
Eve St. Jones,
Mantronix,
Barry Ungar,
Yazoo,
Eric Copeland,
Avey Tare,
John Foxx,
The Residents,
Duran Duran,
Silicon Teens,
Inner City,
James White and The Blacks,
The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five.
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.