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 South Sudan and from Bologna.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Cameo to the punk 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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Negative Approach,
Bronski Beat,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ronnie Foster,
Matthew Bourne,
Underground Resistance,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Raincoats,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Angels of Light,
Subhumans,
Stiv Bators,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Alton Ellis,
The Alarm Clocks,
Shuggie Otis,
LL Cool J,
The Moleskins,
Iggy Pop,
La Düsseldorf,
Gong,
Piero Umiliani,
The Litter,
Mr. Review,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Country Teasers,
Tommy Roe,
Stockholm Monsters,
Goldenarms,
DJ Style,
Siglo XX,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Aswad,
Livin' Joy,
New Age Steppers,
The Gladiators,
Funkadelic,
Minutemen,
Anakelly,
Half Japanese,
Franke,
Agent Orange,
Gang Starr,
Vladislav Delay,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Electric Prunes,
Sun Ra,
John Foxx,
Lou Reed,
The Mummies,
The Red Krayola,
Radio Birdman,
Scott Walker,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eve St. Jones,
Young Marble Giants,
Jeff Mills,
Eric Dolphy,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.