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 Morocco and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and London.
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 snare 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 Bronski Beat to the crunk 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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All DJ Style tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
The Durutti Column,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pagans,
Easy Going,
kango's stein massive,
Jeff Lynne,
The Buckinghams,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Aaron Thompson,
Saccharine Trust,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
OOIOO,
Nas,
The Beau Brummels,
Altered Images,
Charles Mingus,
Peter and Kerry,
Barry Ungar,
Aloha Tigers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Goldenarms,
Intrusion,
Vladislav Delay,
The Move,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Sheep,
Scratch Acid,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
John Holt,
Circle Jerks,
The Slackers,
Organ,
The Index,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Matthew Halsall,
The Last Poets,
Suicide,
Hot Snakes,
Technova,
Maurizio,
Howard Jones,
Whodini,
Adolescents,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Flash Fearless,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Brand Nubian,
One Last Wish,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bauhaus,
The Neon Judgement,
Royal Trux,
Fluxion,
The Fortunes,
The Victims,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fad Gadget,
Audionom,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.