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 Brazil and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lagos.
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 organ 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 Mark Hollis to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
Fat Boys,
Hot Snakes,
Davy DMX,
Bush Tetras,
Cameo,
Cheater Slicks,
Ultravox,
Silicon Teens,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Soft Machine,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ornette Coleman,
Lyres,
Ponytail,
Amon Düül,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Nas,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bill Near,
Supertramp,
Monolake,
Television Personalities,
Skriet,
the Fania All-Stars,
cv313,
Eurythmics,
Darondo,
Subhumans,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Oneida,
Matthew Halsall,
Black Moon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Hardrive,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Reuben Wilson,
Franke,
Metal Thangz,
The Real Kids,
Scott Walker,
Warren Ellis,
Pierre Henry,
Jacob Miller,
Shuggie Otis,
Mary Jane Girls,
T. Rex,
Scion,
The Kinks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fatback Band,
Nik Kershaw,
The Neon Judgement,
ABBA,
Royal Trux,
Dennis Brown,
Ronan,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Joy Division,
Negative Approach,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.