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 Guyana and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 Blancmange to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ten City. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
Mark Hollis,
Kas Product,
Minutemen,
Ultra Naté,
Avey Tare,
Bang On A Can,
Amazonics,
Tres Demented,
Ken Boothe,
Aural Exciters,
Toni Rubio,
The Remains,
Grauzone,
The Music Machine,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Basic Channel,
Bootsy Collins,
Hasil Adkins,
The Grass Roots,
Graham Central Station,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Detroit Cobras,
F. McDonald,
Morten Harket,
Cheater Slicks,
The Raincoats,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eli Mardock,
John Foxx,
Glambeats Corp.,
Y Pants,
Wasted Youth,
Joe Smooth,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Harry Pussy,
Radiohead,
The Kinks,
Icehouse,
June of 44,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Dorothy Ashby,
Angry Samoans,
Alison Limerick,
Vainqueur,
Moby Grape,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
EPMD,
Spoonie Gee,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sound Behaviour,
Sun Ra,
Godley & Creme,
Roxy Music,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sight & Sound,
R.M.O.,
Neil Young,
the Swans,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.