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 Syria and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Sisters of Mercy to the punk 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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Goldenarms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Brick,
Pantytec,
Bob Dylan,
Altered Images,
The Leaves,
Harry Pussy,
Deadbeat,
Audionom,
The Sound,
Prince Buster,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Basic Channel,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Alarm Clocks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ice-T,
Second Layer,
The Mummies,
Absolute Body Control,
The Gap Band,
Subhumans,
The Kinks,
Thompson Twins,
Porter Ricks,
The Busters,
the Bar-Kays,
Ornette Coleman,
Boredoms,
Gang Green,
Chris Corsano,
Sound Behaviour,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lungfish,
Brass Construction,
Black Sheep,
Danielle Patucci,
H. Thieme,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Selecter,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Camouflage,
Tom Boy,
Roy Ayers,
The Buckinghams,
Barrington Levy,
Siglo XX,
Franke,
The Fall,
Scion,
The Slackers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
PIL,
The Human League,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Harmonia,
T.S.O.L.,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Anakelly,
Depeche Mode,
Bauhaus,
CMW,
Mission of Burma,
Max Romeo,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.