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 Iraq and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Icehouse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anakelly record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Nils Olav,
The Evens,
Gabor Szabo,
Pussy Galore,
Quando Quango,
Wasted Youth,
The Buckinghams,
The Dead C,
Shoche,
Soft Machine,
T. Rex,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Human League,
The United States of America,
Das Ding,
Con Funk Shun,
Anakelly,
Letta Mbulu,
Sight & Sound,
Eric Dolphy,
the Association,
The Beau Brummels,
Kaleidoscope,
Mo-Dettes,
The Raincoats,
Danielle Patucci,
The Human League,
Ultimate Spinach,
Neil Young,
Ten City,
Morten Harket,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mad Mike,
Ultra Naté,
Dark Day,
Juan Atkins,
the Fania All-Stars,
Faraquet,
Hasil Adkins,
Kerri Chandler,
Echospace,
Hoover,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
EPMD,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Swell Maps,
The Durutti Column,
kango's stein massive,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Laurel Aitken,
Frankie Knuckles,
Thompson Twins,
The Gun Club,
Eli Mardock,
Gang Green,
The Cramps,
Lee Hazlewood,
Moss Icon,
Jesper Dahlback,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.