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 Bulgaria and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Stereo Dub to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
The Knickerbockers,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Fugs,
Ludus,
New Age Steppers,
The New Christs,
Warsaw,
The Buckinghams,
the Germs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Dave Gahan,
Absolute Body Control,
the Soft Cell,
Wasted Youth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Pierre Henry,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Barry Ungar,
The Sound,
Audionom,
Marcia Griffiths,
B.T. Express,
The Skatalites,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ronnie Foster,
the Swans,
Charles Mingus,
Scratch Acid,
Sonic Youth,
Joe Finger,
The Star Department,
Alice Coltrane,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kas Product,
Aswad,
Hashim,
Sällskapet,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rosa Yemen,
Toni Rubio,
Glenn Branca,
Pantytec,
Freddie Wadling,
Cluster,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Dead C,
The Beau Brummels,
Curtis Mayfield,
R.M.O.,
D'Angelo,
Erasure,
The Motions,
Henry Cow,
Harmonia,
Todd Rundgren,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Slits,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Iggy Pop,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.