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 China and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 guitar 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 F. McDonald 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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
Prince Buster,
The Young Rascals,
Erasure,
ABBA,
Pierre Henry,
Ice-T,
The Tremeloes,
Ronan,
Colin Newman,
Groovy Waters,
UT,
The Barracudas,
Visage,
The Electric Prunes,
DJ Style,
Jawbox,
Buzzcocks,
Cheater Slicks,
Drexciya,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Dave Gahan,
Boredoms,
Moebius,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Blake Baxter,
T.S.O.L.,
The Gories,
Gang Starr,
Lindisfarne,
Dark Day,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Fall,
Model 500,
the Sonics,
New Age Steppers,
Q and Not U,
Blancmange,
The Walker Brothers,
The Golliwogs,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Mark Hollis,
Das Ding,
Gerry Rafferty,
EPMD,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lalann,
Bluetip,
The Divine Comedy,
The Selecter,
Donald Byrd,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Young Marble Giants,
Deakin,
Lou Reed,
The Zeros,
Y Pants,
Man Parrish,
Parry Music,
Mission of Burma,
Tomorrow,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.