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 Serbia and from Halifax.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 sitar 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 Crooked Eye to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
LL Cool J,
a-ha,
Iggy Pop,
Swell Maps,
Banda Bassotti,
The Young Rascals,
Camberwell Now,
The Gun Club,
10cc,
Toni Rubio,
Dark Day,
Siglo XX,
Colin Newman,
Make Up,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fugazi,
Byron Stingily,
The Associates,
Metal Thangz,
Spandau Ballet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Unwound,
Brand Nubian,
Oblivians,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Anakelly,
Wolf Eyes,
Matthew Halsall,
The Mojo Men,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Davy DMX,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kevin Saunderson,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sonic Youth,
MC5,
Wally Richardson,
Maleditus Sound,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lou Christie,
The Buckinghams,
Newcleus,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Infiniti,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Names,
Nas,
Godley & Creme,
Freddie Wadling,
Main Source,
The Music Machine,
Lungfish,
Radio Birdman,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kenny Larkin,
Neil Young,
Second Layer,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.