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 Monaco and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Quando Quango to the crunk 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 Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grey Daturas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
Joe Smooth,
Eddi Front,
Lou Christie,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ten City,
The Golliwogs,
Vainqueur,
Ultra Naté,
Ronnie Foster,
The Black Dice,
The Flesh Eaters,
Amazonics,
Siglo XX,
Grauzone,
Ossler,
The Dirtbombs,
Hot Snakes,
Traffic Nightmare,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Clear Light,
The Fortunes,
Severed Heads,
Marc Almond,
Country Teasers,
Gong,
Index,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cybotron,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Maleditus Sound,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bobby Byrd,
Prince Buster,
Scan 7,
Glenn Branca,
Terry Callier,
June Days,
The Velvet Underground,
Dorothy Ashby,
Desert Stars,
Sixth Finger,
Idris Muhammad,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Sonics,
Matthew Halsall,
David Bowie,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Misunderstood,
Buzzcocks,
Von Mondo,
Scrapy,
The Pop Group,
The Offenders,
Flipper,
Mantronix,
Nik Kershaw,
The Standells,
Oneida,
Dawn Penn,
The American Breed,
H. Thieme,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.