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 Mozambique and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the crunk 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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
the Normal,
Negative Approach,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Mark Hollis,
Tim Buckley,
Flash Fearless,
Mission of Burma,
Sonny Sharrock,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gang of Four,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eric Copeland,
Nas,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ituana,
Bobby Byrd,
John Cale,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Magazine,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Dead C,
Minor Threat,
Mars,
Inner City,
Urselle,
James White and The Blacks,
Warsaw,
Anthony Braxton,
Can,
Harry Pussy,
John Holt,
Fad Gadget,
Lower 48,
Young Marble Giants,
X-Ray Spex,
Ohio Players,
Grauzone,
Au Pairs,
New Order,
Sandy B,
Los Fastidios,
Judy Mowatt,
Isaac Hayes,
Tomorrow,
Audionom,
Anakelly,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Matthew Halsall,
Idris Muhammad,
Scrapy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Masters at Work,
the Human League,
The Durutti Column,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
John Foxx,
The Red Krayola,
Little Man,
Boz Scaggs,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Alton Ellis,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.