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 Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pet Shop Boys to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fat Boys,
Lower 48,
Urselle,
Cal Tjader,
Los Fastidios,
The Misunderstood,
Oblivians,
Crime,
The Searchers,
Young Marble Giants,
Reagan Youth,
Morten Harket,
Rapeman,
Eden Ahbez,
The Last Poets,
The Standells,
Brothers Johnson,
Black Pus,
The Angels of Light,
the Swans,
Glenn Branca,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jeff Lynne,
David McCallum,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mo-Dettes,
Vainqueur,
the Sonics,
Arcadia,
Electric Prunes,
Quantec,
Television,
Throbbing Gristle,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Arab on Radar,
Moss Icon,
Circle Jerks,
UT,
The Modern Lovers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Peter and Kerry,
Byron Stingily,
48th St. Collective,
the Soft Cell,
The Fortunes,
The Cure,
Nils Olav,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lucky Dragons,
the Association,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Slits,
Jerry's Kids,
Funkadelic,
The Fuzztones,
Bronski Beat,
Make Up,
Pere Ubu,
The Blues Magoos,
The Black Dice,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.