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 Chad and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
One Last Wish,
The Gladiators,
Quando Quango,
The Red Krayola,
Robert Wyatt,
Jeff Lynne,
Bill Wells,
UT,
Faraquet,
The Knickerbockers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dark Day,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lucky Dragons,
Theoretical Girls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cheater Slicks,
Easy Going,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ice-T,
Rod Modell,
Stetsasonic,
AZ,
Accadde A,
Mars,
Siglo XX,
Wolf Eyes,
Bobby Byrd,
Smog,
Schoolly D,
Gerry Rafferty,
Skarface,
Q65,
Iggy Pop,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
David Axelrod,
Mad Mike,
Bizarre Inc.,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Litter,
Blake Baxter,
Ten City,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sparks,
Yellowson,
Basic Channel,
Model 500,
Rekid,
Mandrill,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sun City Girls,
Matthew Halsall,
R.M.O.,
Boz Scaggs,
Althea and Donna,
The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight.
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.