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 Saudi Arabia and from Madrid.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses 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 '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 Ken Boothe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Boredoms,
Joy Division,
Black Flag,
Gang Green,
Brick,
The Saints,
The Modern Lovers,
Easy Going,
Reagan Youth,
UT,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Roy Ayers,
Skaos,
Tears for Fears,
Gabor Szabo,
Minutemen,
Das Ding,
Kerri Chandler,
Franke,
Prince Buster,
Ultimate Spinach,
Average White Band,
Pantytec,
Nico,
Eve St. Jones,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Fortunes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Faraquet,
CMW,
Infiniti,
The Trojans,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pulsallama,
Marvin Gaye,
The Cowsills,
Patti Smith,
8 Eyed Spy,
Qualms,
Neil Young,
Eddi Front,
Johnny Clarke,
Radiohead,
Yaz,
Sex Pistols,
Jesper Dahlback,
Agitation Free,
The Dave Clark Five,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eden Ahbez,
Section 25,
The Gun Club,
Brass Construction,
Organ,
June Days,
Roxette,
Crispy Ambulance,
Scan 7,
Supertramp,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
In Retrospect,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.