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 Tanzania and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Anakelly to the dance 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 Godley & Creme. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ossler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
Pussy Galore,
E-Dancer,
Big Daddy Kane,
Desert Stars,
Dorothy Ashby,
K-Klass,
B.T. Express,
Roxy Music,
Bang On A Can,
Joy Division,
Mandrill,
David Bowie,
Bobby Hutcherson,
AZ,
Outsiders,
Adolescents,
Black Pus,
Lungfish,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Drexciya,
The Count Five,
The Fortunes,
The Dirtbombs,
Buzzcocks,
Aaron Thompson,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Kinks,
Malaria!,
Flamin' Groovies,
48th St. Collective,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Public Enemy,
Absolute Body Control,
Soul Sonic Force,
Tears for Fears,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
X-101,
The Barracudas,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Grass Roots,
Mad Mike,
the Swans,
Scratch Acid,
The Seeds,
Marmalade,
The Star Department,
Fluxion,
Jesper Dahlback,
These Immortal Souls,
Los Fastidios,
Girls At Our Best!,
Audionom,
Delon & Dalcan,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mo-Dettes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Yaz,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.