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 Yemen and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 synthesizer 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 Johnny Clarke to the rap 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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Joy Division,
Lalann,
Ten City,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Tremeloes,
Sam Rivers,
Scientists,
Goldenarms,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Vogues,
Pet Shop Boys,
Outsiders,
These Immortal Souls,
the Bar-Kays,
Jacob Miller,
Ken Boothe,
China Crisis,
Sixth Finger,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Peter and Kerry,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jeff Mills,
The Detroit Cobras,
Todd Terry,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
DJ Sneak,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Searchers,
Rakim,
Wolf Eyes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rotary Connection,
Nirvana,
Infiniti,
B.T. Express,
Prince Buster,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
UT,
Scratch Acid,
Laurel Aitken,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Harry Pussy,
The Index,
Graham Central Station,
Schoolly D,
The Remains,
Michelle Simonal,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dorothy Ashby,
Robert Hood,
June of 44,
Alison Limerick,
Donald Byrd,
Radio Birdman,
Mr. Review,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.