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 Algeria and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Flamin' Groovies to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
Faust,
The Pretty Things,
H. Thieme,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pylon,
Brick,
Delta 5,
Black Bananas,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Throbbing Gristle,
Audionom,
X-Ray Spex,
Technova,
Circle Jerks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Techniques,
the Swans,
Charles Mingus,
Howard Jones,
Judy Mowatt,
Ponytail,
It's A Beautiful Day,
CMW,
The Leaves,
The Seeds,
The Dead C,
The Searchers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Flipper,
Malaria!,
Robert Hood,
Joey Negro,
Pharoah Sanders,
Quando Quango,
FM Einheit,
Amazonics,
The Smiths,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rotary Connection,
Faraquet,
Derrick May,
Slave,
The Cowsills,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Delon & Dalcan,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
kango's stein massive,
Scott Walker,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Albert Ayler,
Nico,
Soft Machine,
Basic Channel,
The Red Krayola,
Symarip,
Wolf Eyes,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.