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 United States and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 the Human League to the electroclash 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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
The Gun Club,
The Fuzztones,
Stereo Dub,
Black Bananas,
Aural Exciters,
X-101,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Associates,
New Age Steppers,
Rites of Spring,
Eden Ahbez,
Joy Division,
Traffic Nightmare,
Amazonics,
Magazine,
Crime,
Sight & Sound,
Eli Mardock,
Toni Rubio,
The Cramps,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dual Sessions,
Dave Gahan,
Suicide,
Groovy Waters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lucky Dragons,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gang of Four,
The Electric Prunes,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Iggy Pop,
Don Cherry,
Harry Pussy,
The Music Machine,
Scott Walker,
Unwound,
Roger Hodgson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Trumans Water,
PIL,
Marmalade,
Roxette,
Amon Düül II,
Matthew Halsall,
Erasure,
Todd Rundgren,
The Knickerbockers,
Cameo,
Lungfish,
John Coltrane,
The Monks,
Minnie Riperton,
Boredoms,
Sonic Youth,
The Martian,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.