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 Austria and from Toronto.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Robert Palmer 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 Johnny Osbourne to the punk 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 The Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Blues Magoos,
The Fall,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Monks,
June of 44,
Bauhaus,
Das Ding,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bluetip,
E-Dancer,
The J.B.'s,
Dawn Penn,
Joy Division,
Darondo,
Ludus,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Charles Mingus,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Fugs,
Soul II Soul,
Tommy Roe,
Sam Rivers,
Sugar Minott,
The Knickerbockers,
Deakin,
The Music Machine,
Jandek,
Nick Fraelich,
This Heat,
Banda Bassotti,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Alphaville,
Moss Icon,
Monolake,
The Last Poets,
Royal Trux,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tropical Tobacco,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bobby Sherman,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Yazoo,
Harmonia,
Half Japanese,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Smog,
Fatback Band,
The Neon Judgement,
Neu!,
Vladislav Delay,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
DJ Style,
The Leaves,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mission of Burma,
The Dead C,
The Durutti Column,
Brick,
Connie Case,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.