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 Brunei and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 808 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 Camouflage to the rap 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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Malaria!,
Aural Exciters,
Panda Bear,
Jeff Mills,
Surgeon,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pylon,
Nation of Ulysses,
Chris Corsano,
Black Pus,
Yellowson,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Minnie Riperton,
Motorama,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rites of Spring,
Robert Görl,
Rod Modell,
Iggy Pop,
Gong,
Icehouse,
Porter Ricks,
Minor Threat,
Mary Jane Girls,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
kango's stein massive,
Mad Mike,
E-Dancer,
Boredoms,
In Retrospect,
Ken Boothe,
Hashim,
Basic Channel,
Scion,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Organ,
The Buckinghams,
The Grass Roots,
Sex Pistols,
Arthur Verocai,
Faust,
Jerry's Kids,
Quando Quango,
Youth Brigade,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Motions,
The Red Krayola,
Juan Atkins,
Dawn Penn,
The Wake,
The Victims,
Barry Ungar,
Agent Orange,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scrapy,
The Mummies,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Alison Limerick,
Little Man,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.