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 Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the 808 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 Negative Approach to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MC5 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Cluster,
Eddi Front,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Derrick Morgan,
Electric Prunes,
Suicide,
Scott Walker,
Bronski Beat,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Moody Blues,
kango's stein massive,
John Lydon,
New Order,
Rod Modell,
Dark Day,
Nick Fraelich,
Young Marble Giants,
The Real Kids,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Fugs,
Public Enemy,
Pierre Henry,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Mummies,
Gong,
Colin Newman,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Kinks,
10cc,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Charles Mingus,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sugar Minott,
Tom Boy,
LL Cool J,
Mars,
Country Teasers,
The Offenders,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Franke,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
the Soft Cell,
Section 25,
The Smoke,
Blossom Toes,
The Move,
Au Pairs,
cv313,
The Slackers,
Lakeside,
The Grass Roots,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Maleditus Sound,
the Germs,
Connie Case,
Faust,
Bill Near,
Cymande,
Rapeman,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.