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 Algeria and from Tokyo.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Taipei.
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 Holger Czukay 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 Velvet Underground to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Guru Guru,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
In Retrospect,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Pretty Things,
Isaac Hayes,
Echospace,
Ituana,
Juan Atkins,
Lee Hazlewood,
Yaz,
The Selecter,
Electric Prunes,
Quantec,
The Fall,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fear,
The Skatalites,
Q and Not U,
Con Funk Shun,
Dennis Brown,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Shadows of Knight,
James White and The Blacks,
Blake Baxter,
Gang of Four,
Kevin Saunderson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Section 25,
Kaleidoscope,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pussy Galore,
Barry Ungar,
The Leaves,
Howard Jones,
World's Most,
Nik Kershaw,
Flash Fearless,
a-ha,
Hashim,
The Toasters,
Funky Four + One,
The Trojans,
Peter and Kerry,
Matthew Bourne,
Dorothy Ashby,
Oneida,
Crooked Eye,
UT,
The Modern Lovers,
Mo-Dettes,
The Buckinghams,
Parry Music,
X-Ray Spex,
The Fuzztones,
Sex Pistols,
Erasure,
Black Sheep,
Drive Like Jehu,
Loose Ends,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.