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 Libya and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Von Mondo to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Alison Limerick,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bobby Byrd,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Archie Shepp,
Mr. Review,
Eddi Front,
48th St. Collective,
The Blues Magoos,
Wings,
The Selecter,
Bluetip,
Jacques Brel,
Outsiders,
Johnny Clarke,
Buzzcocks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Depeche Mode,
The Dirtbombs,
Vainqueur,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Busters,
the Fania All-Stars,
The New Christs,
Mars,
Bad Manners,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Robert Hood,
B.T. Express,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Delon & Dalcan,
X-Ray Spex,
Deakin,
Hoover,
The Birthday Party,
Skaos,
Danielle Patucci,
The Golliwogs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Black Flag,
Bobby Womack,
The Monochrome Set,
Radio Birdman,
Roy Ayers,
Main Source,
Marine Girls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ice-T,
Charles Mingus,
Banda Bassotti,
Whodini,
OOIOO,
Franke,
Marcia Griffiths,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Vogues,
Essential Logic,
Rod Modell,
Arthur Verocai,
The Young Rascals,
Television Personalities,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.