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 Swaziland and from Columbus.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 spring reverb 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 The Doobie Brothers to the crunk 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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Loose Ends,
Lungfish,
Bronski Beat,
Marvin Gaye,
Faust,
Saccharine Trust,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Can,
Colin Newman,
Reuben Wilson,
Lou Reed,
Donny Hathaway,
Black Flag,
Minor Threat,
Funkadelic,
The Move,
John Cale,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
JFA,
Gregory Isaacs,
Black Moon,
Judy Mowatt,
Ludus,
Gang Green,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Wake,
Desert Stars,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Traffic Nightmare,
Radio Birdman,
Bush Tetras,
Quando Quango,
The Fall,
Kurtis Blow,
the Human League,
Wings,
Aaron Thompson,
The Black Dice,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Cramps,
The Birthday Party,
The Trojans,
The Electric Prunes,
Leonard Cohen,
Nas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ultravox,
the Bar-Kays,
Silicon Teens,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bobby Sherman,
Ohio Players,
the Association,
The Gladiators,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Boredoms,
David Bowie,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ken Boothe,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Urselle,
Laurel Aitken,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.