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 Rwanda and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Jakarta.
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 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 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 Iggy Pop to the rock 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 The Trojans. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Laurel Aitken,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Drexciya,
Cameo,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Harmonia,
Monolake,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ten City,
Half Japanese,
Motorama,
Howard Jones,
B.T. Express,
Ronnie Foster,
The Black Dice,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Yellowson,
Jandek,
Morten Harket,
The Dirtbombs,
Cecil Taylor,
Isaac Hayes,
The Birthday Party,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Goldenarms,
Mission of Burma,
Smog,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ponytail,
Bobby Sherman,
Liliput,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Smoke,
MDC,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
L. Decosne,
Dennis Brown,
The Sound,
Fifty Foot Hose,
H. Thieme,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Slits,
Y Pants,
Leonard Cohen,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lindisfarne,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
June Days,
the Human League,
Toni Rubio,
In Retrospect,
The Sonics,
Charles Mingus,
Flash Fearless,
Pole,
FM Einheit,
Fluxion,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.