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 Bangladesh and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 chamberlin 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 Wire to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Quantec,
Lou Reed,
Todd Rundgren,
The Doors,
Dorothy Ashby,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Moody Blues,
Swell Maps,
New Order,
Echospace,
Sällskapet,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Sound,
Livin' Joy,
Vainqueur,
Surgeon,
Roy Ayers,
X-101,
Morten Harket,
U.S. Maple,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Hashim,
Bill Near,
Reuben Wilson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Essential Logic,
Ken Boothe,
Faust,
Eurythmics,
Average White Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
James White and The Blacks,
Agent Orange,
DNA,
Sarah Menescal,
Fela Kuti,
Drexciya,
Young Marble Giants,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lee Hazlewood,
R.M.O.,
The Selecter,
Jacques Brel,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Five Americans,
Tom Boy,
Yellowson,
Rites of Spring,
Pierre Henry,
Amazonics,
Eric Copeland,
Alton Ellis,
The Fortunes,
Kurtis Blow,
New Age Steppers,
Lindisfarne,
Erykah Badu,
Royal Trux,
Newcleus,
Danielle Patucci,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.