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 Guyana and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Aaron Thompson to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
B.T. Express,
Susan Cadogan,
DNA,
Carl Craig,
Sonic Youth,
Cecil Taylor,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Toasters,
Nils Olav,
Oblivians,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Residents,
Hot Snakes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Model 500,
Eve St. Jones,
The Motions,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pulsallama,
Motorama,
Kaleidoscope,
Mandrill,
Shoche,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Severed Heads,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Erykah Badu,
The Smoke,
New Age Steppers,
LL Cool J,
Prince Buster,
Little Man,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Theoretical Girls,
The Detroit Cobras,
Quantec,
Warsaw,
Tropical Tobacco,
X-102,
Jerry's Kids,
U.S. Maple,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Danielle Patucci,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jawbox,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Mo-Dettes,
The Blues Magoos,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lalann,
Minny Pops,
The Red Krayola,
Marine Girls,
Mission of Burma,
Vainqueur,
Henry Cow,
Andrew Hill,
Joe Finger,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.