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 Madagascar and from Bologna.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Houston.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 John Foxx to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Girls At Our Best!,
kango's stein massive,
The Fire Engines,
Royal Trux,
Stockholm Monsters,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Happenings,
Skaos,
The Zeros,
Loose Ends,
Janne Schatter,
Magazine,
Television Personalities,
Magma,
Ralphi Rosario,
Circle Jerks,
Adolescents,
Brick,
Arab on Radar,
Harpers Bizarre,
Vladislav Delay,
Shuggie Otis,
Suicide,
Glenn Branca,
Bobby Byrd,
Jeff Lynne,
David Axelrod,
Todd Rundgren,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Audionom,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Agitation Free,
The Smoke,
Flamin' Groovies,
Masters at Work,
Yaz,
New York Dolls,
Minny Pops,
Arcadia,
Soul II Soul,
Bobby Womack,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rotary Connection,
John Lydon,
Metal Thangz,
The Smiths,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ultimate Spinach,
Amazonics,
T. Rex,
Ultravox,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Dave Gahan,
Skarface,
John Coltrane,
Gichy Dan,
Index,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bang On A Can,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.