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 Macedonia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 The Happenings to the disco 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Black Moon,
The Remains,
Tubeway Army,
Audionom,
Pierre Henry,
Rhythm & Sound,
Darondo,
Gang Green,
Los Fastidios,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Peter & Gordon,
The Smiths,
The Names,
Terry Callier,
Minor Threat,
The Knickerbockers,
Barry Ungar,
Gang Gang Dance,
Quantec,
Severed Heads,
Sexual Harrassment,
Swans,
The Golliwogs,
David Bowie,
Man Parrish,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
PIL,
the Slits,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Metal Thangz,
Colin Newman,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nik Kershaw,
Newcleus,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Wake,
The United States of America,
Rapeman,
Bluetip,
Wolf Eyes,
Nation of Ulysses,
Moby Grape,
The Slits,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lalo Schifrin,
Groovy Waters,
Yaz,
Minutemen,
Cheater Slicks,
The New Christs,
Depeche Mode,
Robert Wyatt,
The Moleskins,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jacques Brel,
Tomorrow,
Supertramp,
Dawn Penn,
the Fania All-Stars,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.