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 Ivory Coast and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Salvador.
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 spring reverb 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 The Litter to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 K-Klass. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Doors,
Absolute Body Control,
Marine Girls,
Godley & Creme,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Yazoo,
Skriet,
MDC,
Roger Hodgson,
Kenny Larkin,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Smoke,
The Detroit Cobras,
Grauzone,
Ituana,
H. Thieme,
Arab on Radar,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Quando Quango,
Lindisfarne,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Blake Baxter,
Anthony Braxton,
John Foxx,
Gichy Dan,
The Real Kids,
Magma,
Ultra Naté,
Fear,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Spoonie Gee,
Malaria!,
Section 25,
The Red Krayola,
Lyres,
Wire,
The Alarm Clocks,
Colin Newman,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Blues Magoos,
The Neon Judgement,
Supertramp,
Bobby Sherman,
Marvin Gaye,
Qualms,
Depeche Mode,
JFA,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
T.S.O.L.,
Skaos,
Mantronix,
Surgeon,
Josef K,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Spandau Ballet,
Interpol,
Kayak,
The New Christs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.