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 Solomon Islands and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 rhodes 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 Lower 48 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt 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?
Robert Hood,
Ornette Coleman,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Doors,
Sandy B,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
T. Rex,
Young Marble Giants,
Zapp,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Vogues,
R.M.O.,
Y Pants,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Brass Construction,
The Beau Brummels,
Wasted Youth,
Crispy Ambulance,
Popol Vuh,
Warsaw,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Henry Cow,
Interpol,
Joyce Sims,
Glenn Branca,
Lightning Bolt,
Ultravox,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mark Hollis,
Ituana,
John Foxx,
The Mojo Men,
Whodini,
Parry Music,
the Soft Cell,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Skatalites,
The Index,
Soft Machine,
Agitation Free,
James White and The Blacks,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Dave Clark Five,
Spandau Ballet,
Al Stewart,
Buzzcocks,
Television Personalities,
Quantec,
Barrington Levy,
The Cowsills,
Junior Murvin,
cv313,
Slave,
Ludus,
T.S.O.L.,
Tres Demented,
Alton Ellis,
Minnie Riperton,
Tubeway Army,
The Residents,
The Trojans,
Public Enemy,
Boredoms,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.