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 Moldova and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Portland.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Hardrive to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a China Crisis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Unrelated Segments,
Blake Baxter,
Donny Hathaway,
The Wake,
Throbbing Gristle,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Slackers,
Mo-Dettes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Blackbyrds,
R.M.O.,
Skaos,
Niagra,
John Lydon,
kango's stein massive,
Fad Gadget,
Newcleus,
Matthew Bourne,
The Flesh Eaters,
Byron Stingily,
Gabor Szabo,
Lightning Bolt,
Zapp,
DJ Sneak,
Reuben Wilson,
Procol Harum,
Kool Moe Dee,
Harry Pussy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mary Jane Girls,
Main Source,
Talk Talk,
Qualms,
Bob Dylan,
Accadde A,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Blues Magoos,
Lou Christie,
Black Sheep,
Bill Wells,
Alphaville,
Joey Negro,
Banda Bassotti,
Youth Brigade,
The Fuzztones,
K-Klass,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Drexciya,
Camouflage,
Terry Callier,
The Barracudas,
Ultravox,
Amazonics,
Rakim,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Al Stewart,
Wire,
Agent Orange,
Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp..
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.