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 Burkina and from Manchester.
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 Taipei and Philadelphia.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ice-T to the dance 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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Tom Boy,
One Last Wish,
Joyce Sims,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Velvet Underground,
the Soft Cell,
Radiohead,
Kerri Chandler,
ABBA,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mark Hollis,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
AZ,
Gerry Rafferty,
Black Bananas,
Unwound,
Fugazi,
Carl Craig,
Suburban Knight,
Vladislav Delay,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Excepter,
Hashim,
The Litter,
Kevin Saunderson,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Circle Jerks,
Qualms,
Agent Orange,
Deepchord,
Malaria!,
The Searchers,
The Monks,
Pierre Henry,
Essential Logic,
The Trojans,
Desert Stars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Victims,
The New Christs,
Zapp,
Skarface,
Mr. Review,
Iggy Pop,
Morten Harket,
Henry Cow,
Bizarre Inc.,
R.M.O.,
Bush Tetras,
Roy Ayers,
Dave Gahan,
The Gap Band,
The Star Department,
Country Teasers,
Minnie Riperton,
Black Pus,
Susan Cadogan,
The Seeds,
The Sonics,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.