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 Kenya and from Tokyo.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Busters to the jazz 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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy 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?
The Beau Brummels,
Funkadelic,
Max Romeo,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Star Department,
John Lydon,
Barry Ungar,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Kinks,
Pierre Henry,
Joe Smooth,
the Association,
Darondo,
Wings,
Electric Prunes,
the Bar-Kays,
Underground Resistance,
Arcadia,
Wally Richardson,
Public Image Ltd.,
Man Parrish,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Doobie Brothers,
Joy Division,
Sexual Harrassment,
Make Up,
Malaria!,
Reagan Youth,
Johnny Clarke,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Drexciya,
Hardrive,
Organ,
These Immortal Souls,
Brick,
Matthew Bourne,
Joensuu 1685,
Eric B and Rakim,
Hashim,
Colin Newman,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
ABC,
Monks,
Chris Corsano,
Faust,
Rod Modell,
Michelle Simonal,
New York Dolls,
Mars,
Mission of Burma,
The Move,
The Selecter,
Tom Boy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The United States of America,
The Dave Clark Five,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Franke,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.