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 Syria and from Salvador.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Hong Kong.
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 organ 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 Bush Tetras to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Dawn Penn,
Throbbing Gristle,
X-Ray Spex,
Gil Scott Heron,
Monks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
OOIOO,
Pylon,
Wally Richardson,
Rotary Connection,
The Searchers,
Darondo,
Nik Kershaw,
Mission of Burma,
Moebius,
The United States of America,
Scott Walker,
Electric Prunes,
PIL,
Saccharine Trust,
The Fortunes,
Brick,
Pussy Galore,
Marmalade,
Deadbeat,
Erasure,
Infiniti,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Peter & Gordon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Letta Mbulu,
The Star Department,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Alarm Clocks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Lakeside,
F. McDonald,
Simply Red,
The Velvet Underground,
Make Up,
T. Rex,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Crispy Ambulance,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eric Copeland,
Y Pants,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Tom Boy,
Average White Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Cure,
Archie Shepp,
James White and The Blacks,
Audionom,
Bronski Beat,
The Victims,
Moby Grape,
Malaria!,
Kurtis Blow,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.