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 Lebanon and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 rhodes 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 cv313 to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quantec 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Arthur Verocai,
Tubeway Army,
Pantaleimon,
The Durutti Column,
Nico,
Easy Going,
Black Pus,
Bootsy Collins,
The Beau Brummels,
The Moody Blues,
David Bowie,
Unrelated Segments,
The Smoke,
X-101,
The Real Kids,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Soft Cell,
Lower 48,
Bang On A Can,
Khruangbin,
Surgeon,
Wings,
The J.B.'s,
The Blackbyrds,
The Mummies,
DJ Style,
The Black Dice,
Throbbing Gristle,
Janne Schatter,
Grauzone,
Infiniti,
X-102,
MDC,
K-Klass,
Morten Harket,
Bluetip,
Sixth Finger,
Idris Muhammad,
Alice Coltrane,
T.S.O.L.,
DJ Sneak,
The Doobie Brothers,
Dawn Penn,
Index,
Hasil Adkins,
Gang Green,
Laurel Aitken,
the Swans,
Hot Snakes,
Organ,
Severed Heads,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Wally Richardson,
Lakeside,
The United States of America,
the Human League,
Bob Dylan,
Circle Jerks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.