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 Montenegro and from Seoul.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Fuzztones to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Derrick Morgan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Colin Newman,
Das Ding,
Pere Ubu,
a-ha,
The Monochrome Set,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Roxette,
Liliput,
Livin' Joy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Half Japanese,
Howard Jones,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Silicon Teens,
Morten Harket,
Interpol,
The Mummies,
ABC,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cymande,
The Martian,
The Human League,
Jacques Brel,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Magazine,
Franke,
Minor Threat,
Yazoo,
Funkadelic,
Leonard Cohen,
Godley & Creme,
Au Pairs,
X-Ray Spex,
Kurtis Blow,
The Names,
Hasil Adkins,
Ralphi Rosario,
Marmalade,
Charles Mingus,
Soft Machine,
Joe Smooth,
Deadbeat,
Monks,
EPMD,
Arcadia,
MC5,
Lindisfarne,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fugs,
Newcleus,
Bad Manners,
Simply Red,
The United States of America,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ossler,
The Velvet Underground,
Dead Boys,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.