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 Tanzania and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ituana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ludus,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cecil Taylor,
Neil Young,
The Birthday Party,
Hoover,
Mantronix,
Icehouse,
Liliput,
Joey Negro,
The Human League,
The Gories,
Byron Stingily,
Deakin,
Theoretical Girls,
The Durutti Column,
Joe Finger,
Pussy Galore,
Black Sheep,
Althea and Donna,
Cymande,
H. Thieme,
Roxette,
Brass Construction,
The Electric Prunes,
Metal Thangz,
World's Most,
Tropical Tobacco,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bronski Beat,
Animal Collective,
Man Eating Sloth,
Angry Samoans,
Minny Pops,
Rotary Connection,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Johnny Osbourne,
10cc,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Qualms,
Eve St. Jones,
The Offenders,
DJ Style,
Echospace,
The Music Machine,
China Crisis,
Amazonics,
Prince Buster,
Desert Stars,
Black Bananas,
Josef K,
Pylon,
Hot Snakes,
AZ,
Pere Ubu,
Depeche Mode,
Dark Day,
Technova,
Mandrill,
Simply Red,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.