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 Madagascar and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
Gregory Isaacs,
Wings,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Freddie Wadling,
Tomorrow,
DNA,
Leonard Cohen,
Dave Gahan,
Joe Smooth,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bobby Byrd,
Babytalk,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Frankie Knuckles,
Brothers Johnson,
Pierre Henry,
John Foxx,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ralphi Rosario,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Residents,
The Modern Lovers,
Mission of Burma,
Eddi Front,
AZ,
Stereo Dub,
The Buckinghams,
Cluster,
Can,
Harmonia,
Duran Duran,
Patti Smith,
Trumans Water,
Aural Exciters,
The Gories,
Vainqueur,
Kaleidoscope,
Saccharine Trust,
Cheater Slicks,
Juan Atkins,
Bad Manners,
Youth Brigade,
The Doors,
Bronski Beat,
The Selecter,
Minutemen,
Grey Daturas,
Cal Tjader,
the Swans,
Joensuu 1685,
The Evens,
Monolake,
Matthew Bourne,
The Offenders,
Morten Harket,
Tubeway Army,
Bush Tetras,
The Golliwogs,
Television,
Index,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.