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 Jordan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Nick Fraelich to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxy Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Wake,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cecil Taylor,
Electric Prunes,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eurythmics,
Unrelated Segments,
The Monks,
The Gap Band,
Depeche Mode,
Funkadelic,
Echospace,
Rakim,
Susan Cadogan,
Smog,
Swell Maps,
Pantaleimon,
Popol Vuh,
The Slackers,
Blake Baxter,
The Beau Brummels,
Cybotron,
Joe Finger,
Lightning Bolt,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lucky Dragons,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Q and Not U,
Bill Near,
Barrington Levy,
Toni Rubio,
Darondo,
Monolake,
a-ha,
Deepchord,
Eli Mardock,
Reuben Wilson,
The Offenders,
Loose Ends,
Chris Corsano,
Kaleidoscope,
Todd Terry,
Sexual Harrassment,
Motorama,
Flash Fearless,
Roxette,
Jandek,
Tomorrow,
Black Moon,
the Slits,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Harry Pussy,
Bobby Byrd,
Thompson Twins,
Second Layer,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Smiths,
Newcleus,
Gang Green,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.