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 Greece and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bauhaus to the jazz 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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Chris & Cosey,
Outsiders,
Girls At Our Best!,
Adolescents,
The Index,
Camberwell Now,
Kenny Larkin,
Ice-T,
the Fania All-Stars,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bobby Sherman,
Bad Manners,
Harry Pussy,
Glenn Branca,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Smiths,
Toni Rubio,
Jacques Brel,
Scrapy,
Alison Limerick,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Connie Case,
The Real Kids,
Lakeside,
Donny Hathaway,
Brothers Johnson,
Joyce Sims,
Das Ding,
Angry Samoans,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
KRS-One,
John Coltrane,
Intrusion,
Tommy Roe,
The Young Rascals,
Mary Jane Girls,
Simply Red,
The Durutti Column,
Excepter,
Swans,
Traffic Nightmare,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Inner City,
Hoover,
Kerri Chandler,
World's Most,
Pharoah Sanders,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bluetip,
Stetsasonic,
The Mojo Men,
Dave Gahan,
Popol Vuh,
Grauzone,
June of 44,
Derrick May,
Jawbox,
The Sonics,
Dead Boys,
The Mummies,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.