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 Fiji and from Tehran.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Hong Kong.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 The Smiths to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Whodini,
The Doors,
Andrew Hill,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Howard Jones,
Deakin,
The Fuzztones,
The Young Rascals,
The Remains,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Metal Thangz,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Radiopuhelimet,
Model 500,
Tubeway Army,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bronski Beat,
Electric Prunes,
X-101,
Skaos,
June of 44,
Youth Brigade,
Dave Gahan,
Flipper,
Angry Samoans,
Mad Mike,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jacob Miller,
Aural Exciters,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Leaves,
Absolute Body Control,
The Doobie Brothers,
CMW,
The Motions,
Spoonie Gee,
Minutemen,
Index,
The Monochrome Set,
Nik Kershaw,
The Trojans,
Freddie Wadling,
the Association,
Michelle Simonal,
New Age Steppers,
Byron Stingily,
T.S.O.L.,
Banda Bassotti,
Simply Red,
Moss Icon,
Lucky Dragons,
Siglo XX,
The Selecter,
Ponytail,
Los Fastidios,
the Slits,
ABBA,
The Moleskins,
The Smiths,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.