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 New Zealand and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Popol Vuh to the dance 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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
T.S.O.L.,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Archie Shepp,
X-102,
Babytalk,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Crispian St. Peters,
Suicide,
The Saints,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Angels of Light,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Grey Daturas,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ludus,
The Golliwogs,
Idris Muhammad,
Hot Snakes,
Eric Copeland,
Alice Coltrane,
Zero Boys,
Tres Demented,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tom Boy,
Warren Ellis,
Sixth Finger,
The Fuzztones,
Mr. Review,
Tubeway Army,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Chris & Cosey,
Inner City,
H. Thieme,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fatback Band,
kango's stein massive,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ten City,
Junior Murvin,
Carl Craig,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sound Behaviour,
Metal Thangz,
Model 500,
Scrapy,
Hoover,
Jeff Mills,
Susan Cadogan,
The Divine Comedy,
Audionom,
Lou Christie,
DJ Style,
Crime,
Boz Scaggs,
Interpol,
Lyres,
Icehouse,
Agent Orange,
The Searchers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk.
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.