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 Turkmenistan and from Calgary.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the electroclash 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 Jeff Mills. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
John Cale,
Alice Coltrane,
The Count Five,
The Raincoats,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Walker Brothers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crispy Ambulance,
Visage,
Adolescents,
Supertramp,
Blancmange,
Peter & Gordon,
Ken Boothe,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
R.M.O.,
Crooked Eye,
the Slits,
Young Marble Giants,
Jacob Miller,
Lakeside,
Ituana,
The Leaves,
Howard Jones,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Johnny Clarke,
Can,
Oneida,
Ten City,
Livin' Joy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
DNA,
Talk Talk,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pole,
Bush Tetras,
The Birthday Party,
Sonic Youth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Tommy Roe,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Litter,
Sugar Minott,
F. McDonald,
Max Romeo,
Shoche,
The Smiths,
Flipper,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Vladislav Delay,
Dorothy Ashby,
UT,
Japan,
Fluxion,
Alison Limerick,
Nation of Ulysses,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.