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 Australia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and New York.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Excepter to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Görl record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scientists,
Q and Not U,
Skarface,
Pere Ubu,
OOIOO,
Japan,
The American Breed,
David Bowie,
Kevin Saunderson,
Groovy Waters,
Todd Terry,
Nation of Ulysses,
Funky Four + One,
Organ,
Bob Dylan,
Vladislav Delay,
Scrapy,
Blancmange,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Wake,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
AZ,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eden Ahbez,
Idris Muhammad,
Model 500,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pantaleimon,
Visage,
Boredoms,
Agent Orange,
Archie Shepp,
Wire,
Rites of Spring,
Davy DMX,
Whodini,
The Busters,
Howard Jones,
Jeru the Damaja,
Liliput,
Newcleus,
David McCallum,
Rekid,
Underground Resistance,
Boogie Down Productions,
Matthew Bourne,
Henry Cow,
Boz Scaggs,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sam Rivers,
Robert Wyatt,
The Divine Comedy,
Bill Wells,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Joyce Sims,
The Monks,
Connie Case,
Talk Talk,
Mission of Burma,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.