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 Kiribati and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Eve St. Jones to the electroclash 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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Depeche Mode,
CMW,
Sight & Sound,
Sun Ra,
John Lydon,
Country Teasers,
Ludus,
Ultra Naté,
The Selecter,
Monks,
Isaac Hayes,
Harmonia,
LL Cool J,
Magma,
the Soft Cell,
Niagra,
Tommy Roe,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Monochrome Set,
Make Up,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Dave Gahan,
Agitation Free,
Alison Limerick,
The Moody Blues,
Pere Ubu,
Archie Shepp,
the Bar-Kays,
Donny Hathaway,
Jeff Mills,
Rufus Thomas,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lou Christie,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Human League,
Supertramp,
Gong,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Gories,
Rotary Connection,
Buzzcocks,
Bobby Byrd,
Eric Dolphy,
Desert Stars,
Main Source,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The American Breed,
The Black Dice,
Lalo Schifrin,
Cal Tjader,
The Pretty Things,
Funky Four + One,
Minnie Riperton,
Sex Pistols,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Godley & Creme,
Vainqueur,
A Certain Ratio,
Visage,
Fugazi,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.