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 Sweden and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Milan.
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 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 L. Decosne to the electroclash 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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mantronix record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Crime,
Chris Corsano,
The Leaves,
Bang On A Can,
The United States of America,
Barry Ungar,
Cybotron,
Derrick Morgan,
The American Breed,
Panda Bear,
Clear Light,
PIL,
Eli Mardock,
The Evens,
Warren Ellis,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gang of Four,
The Grass Roots,
Neu!,
Ituana,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kurtis Blow,
The Electric Prunes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Roger Hodgson,
Man Parrish,
Alton Ellis,
Zero Boys,
Negative Approach,
Kenny Larkin,
Electric Prunes,
New Age Steppers,
Erykah Badu,
T. Rex,
Excepter,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Fortunes,
The Moleskins,
The Angels of Light,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Litter,
Tubeway Army,
Cameo,
Jerry's Kids,
The Offenders,
Leonard Cohen,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ronnie Foster,
Zapp,
June Days,
Donald Byrd,
Dual Sessions,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Young Marble Giants,
Joyce Sims,
Index,
Dead Boys,
The Count Five,
Bobby Sherman,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.