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 Mozambique and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Stiv Bators to the electroclash 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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Amazonics,
Camouflage,
H. Thieme,
Dual Sessions,
Basic Channel,
Bush Tetras,
Young Marble Giants,
Public Image Ltd.,
Eve St. Jones,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fat Boys,
Susan Cadogan,
The Pretty Things,
Public Enemy,
The Dirtbombs,
The Associates,
Arthur Verocai,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jeff Mills,
Von Mondo,
Junior Murvin,
Audionom,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The J.B.'s,
Davy DMX,
X-Ray Spex,
Ituana,
The Durutti Column,
The Searchers,
Lindisfarne,
T. Rex,
Deadbeat,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Move,
Spandau Ballet,
John Holt,
Johnny Osbourne,
Fear,
Hasil Adkins,
Monks,
The Trojans,
Television,
Barclay James Harvest,
Loose Ends,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Soulsonic Force,
Echospace,
the Normal,
Circle Jerks,
Dennis Brown,
Pierre Henry,
Jerry's Kids,
The Smoke,
DNA,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Smiths,
Crispy Ambulance,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bizarre Inc.,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.