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 Hungary and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 chamberlin 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 American Breed to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Magazine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jimmy McGriff record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
John Cale,
PIL,
EPMD,
Gang Green,
Kenny Larkin,
The Busters,
Monks,
Crooked Eye,
Throbbing Gristle,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Johnny Osbourne,
Inner City,
Bootsy Collins,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Peter & Gordon,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
DNA,
Tubeway Army,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Junior Murvin,
Iggy Pop,
Joy Division,
Tropical Tobacco,
Quantec,
Max Romeo,
Gang Gang Dance,
Nick Fraelich,
Smog,
Idris Muhammad,
Amon Düül II,
The Young Rascals,
The Alarm Clocks,
Organ,
The Blues Magoos,
New Age Steppers,
Bill Wells,
Eddi Front,
Guru Guru,
The Invisible,
Ten City,
Icehouse,
Saccharine Trust,
Nico,
Con Funk Shun,
Roxette,
Panda Bear,
Cybotron,
Judy Mowatt,
The Flesh Eaters,
Thee Headcoats,
Lou Reed,
Dave Gahan,
Matthew Halsall,
Second Layer,
Hoover,
Unwound,
Simply Red,
Hardrive,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.