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 Cyprus and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pere Ubu 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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Crash Course in Science,
Wolf Eyes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Searchers,
Unrelated Segments,
The Divine Comedy,
Rod Modell,
Dave Gahan,
Drive Like Jehu,
Can,
Schoolly D,
Joyce Sims,
the Normal,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Public Image Ltd.,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Joe Smooth,
Byron Stingily,
Pierre Henry,
Hashim,
The Cure,
The Kinks,
kango's stein massive,
ABBA,
Loose Ends,
Roy Ayers,
Howard Jones,
Joey Negro,
The Smoke,
Stockholm Monsters,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Last Poets,
Scion,
Blancmange,
The Five Americans,
Ponytail,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Toasters,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Crooked Eye,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sexual Harrassment,
Von Mondo,
PIL,
Camberwell Now,
Maurizio,
the Fania All-Stars,
Isaac Hayes,
Average White Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Banda Bassotti,
Harry Pussy,
Angry Samoans,
The Fugs,
Donald Byrd,
Metal Thangz,
Organ,
Matthew Halsall,
The Blackbyrds,
Boz Scaggs,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.