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 Finland and from Accra.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lou Reed,
Angry Samoans,
Country Teasers,
Ken Boothe,
Lalo Schifrin,
One Last Wish,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Slits,
B.T. Express,
Ten City,
Piero Umiliani,
Q and Not U,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mars,
Motorama,
Rites of Spring,
Surgeon,
MDC,
The Pretty Things,
Boredoms,
Whodini,
Rufus Thomas,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Misunderstood,
Qualms,
The Trojans,
the Germs,
Lightning Bolt,
K-Klass,
Fatback Band,
Josef K,
Ice-T,
Talk Talk,
X-102,
Television Personalities,
Simply Red,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Mojo Men,
Half Japanese,
Man Eating Sloth,
Das Ding,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Litter,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Juan Atkins,
Bobby Byrd,
Peter and Kerry,
Marine Girls,
the Soft Cell,
Eve St. Jones,
MC5,
The Sound,
Delta 5,
X-101,
Gang Green,
Mission of Burma,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jacob Miller,
Nils Olav,
Scrapy,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.