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 Solomon Islands and from Bremen.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 A Flock of Seagulls 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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Negative Approach,
Chris Corsano,
Thompson Twins,
Dave Gahan,
The Invisible,
Matthew Bourne,
Depeche Mode,
MDC,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sandy B,
The Mojo Men,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Skarface,
Visage,
Hardrive,
Excepter,
Talk Talk,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jacob Miller,
Black Sheep,
Loose Ends,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Interpol,
The Residents,
Drive Like Jehu,
Cybotron,
Kayak,
the Association,
X-Ray Spex,
DJ Style,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Seeds,
Archie Shepp,
Bob Dylan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kerri Chandler,
Severed Heads,
Eddi Front,
Traffic Nightmare,
John Lydon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Spandau Ballet,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Derrick May,
The Monks,
Jimmy McGriff,
JFA,
Amon Düül,
The Techniques,
Dual Sessions,
Joey Negro,
Roxy Music,
Rotary Connection,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Maurizio,
Black Bananas,
Simply Red,
Accadde A,
T. Rex,
Magazine,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Technova,
Warsaw,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.