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 Taiwan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Theoretical Girls to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Wake,
Bizarre Inc.,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Buckinghams,
Warren Ellis,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cymande,
Jerry's Kids,
Wolf Eyes,
Qualms,
The Gap Band,
Stiv Bators,
Sugar Minott,
Scan 7,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sixth Finger,
Fatback Band,
The Offenders,
The J.B.'s,
Sam Rivers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Colin Newman,
Avey Tare,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Chrome,
Inner City,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Quando Quango,
Oblivians,
Big Daddy Kane,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Red Krayola,
Kerri Chandler,
Vladislav Delay,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Zeros,
Negative Approach,
Jandek,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Busters,
Al Stewart,
Pere Ubu,
Von Mondo,
Derrick May,
L. Decosne,
Dark Day,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Charles Mingus,
Television,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gong,
Gang of Four,
Boz Scaggs,
The Slits,
The Toasters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Victims,
Boredoms,
Scientists,
June Days,
Minny Pops,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.