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 Namibia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Interpol to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Robert Görl,
Boredoms,
Zapp,
Bluetip,
Byron Stingily,
Von Mondo,
Aaron Thompson,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Index,
Be Bop Deluxe,
U.S. Maple,
Yellowson,
Faust,
Schoolly D,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Barry Ungar,
Ken Boothe,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Blake Baxter,
Lyres,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Judy Mowatt,
Hoover,
the Human League,
Pulsallama,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Zeros,
MDC,
Pharoah Sanders,
John Holt,
Wire,
Marmalade,
The Doors,
Sex Pistols,
Lakeside,
Simply Red,
Lindisfarne,
Tears for Fears,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pantaleimon,
The Walker Brothers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
DNA,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sonic Youth,
Throbbing Gristle,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Tomorrow,
Pierre Henry,
JFA,
Angry Samoans,
T.S.O.L.,
Technova,
Severed Heads,
Duran Duran,
The Human League,
Stiv Bators,
Henry Cow,
Goldenarms,
These Immortal Souls,
Curtis Mayfield,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.