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 Uruguay and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Calgary.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare 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 Susan Cadogan to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar 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 Angels of Light,
James White and The Blacks,
Slick Rick,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Blake Baxter,
Heaven 17,
The Knickerbockers,
Minny Pops,
Deadbeat,
Tubeway Army,
Don Cherry,
Radio Birdman,
Spandau Ballet,
Faraquet,
Magma,
Throbbing Gristle,
Peter and Kerry,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pylon,
Danielle Patucci,
Fluxion,
Mandrill,
H. Thieme,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lou Christie,
Yaz,
Circle Jerks,
Grauzone,
Jawbox,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lungfish,
Schoolly D,
Jeff Lynne,
Theoretical Girls,
The Skatalites,
John Holt,
Camouflage,
Roger Hodgson,
The Fortunes,
Matthew Bourne,
Fugazi,
The Count Five,
Thee Headcoats,
The Fugs,
Grandmaster Flash,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Al Stewart,
Ornette Coleman,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Shuggie Otis,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Stiv Bators,
June Days,
Scrapy,
Aural Exciters,
Sam Rivers,
Anthony Braxton,
Henry Cow,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
T.S.O.L.,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
kango's stein massive,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.