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 Mongolia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 harpsichord 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 Negative Approach to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Hardrive,
Bad Manners,
Malaria!,
Oneida,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Blancmange,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Slits,
Ossler,
Cecil Taylor,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rotary Connection,
Arab on Radar,
The Velvet Underground,
Kayak,
The Move,
Letta Mbulu,
Brothers Johnson,
Television Personalities,
Blake Baxter,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Stereo Dub,
Arcadia,
the Slits,
Fatback Band,
ABC,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lou Reed,
Nik Kershaw,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lungfish,
The Gun Club,
Skaos,
Ultra Naté,
Shoche,
Bronski Beat,
The Fall,
The Walker Brothers,
Deakin,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Soft Cell,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kool Moe Dee,
Al Stewart,
New York Dolls,
Gong,
Inner City,
Skarface,
Bobby Sherman,
Warren Ellis,
Duran Duran,
Delta 5,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Arthur Verocai,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Echospace,
Gang of Four,
Joy Division,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.