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 Azerbaijan and from Madrid.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Paris.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Howard Jones to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Danielle Patucci,
Faraquet,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sex Pistols,
kango's stein massive,
Erykah Badu,
The Mummies,
Moby Grape,
Boredoms,
Soul II Soul,
The Slits,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Terry Callier,
Ituana,
The Blackbyrds,
Crispian St. Peters,
Country Teasers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Donald Byrd,
Magma,
The Gun Club,
Henry Cow,
Bobby Womack,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Monks,
Intrusion,
Royal Trux,
Piero Umiliani,
Robert Görl,
In Retrospect,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
DNA,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kool Moe Dee,
Todd Terry,
The Dead C,
Roxette,
Aaron Thompson,
Lou Reed,
Kevin Saunderson,
Tim Buckley,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gang of Four,
John Cale,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rakim,
Sun City Girls,
Bizarre Inc.,
Crash Course in Science,
X-Ray Spex,
Jacob Miller,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ultravox,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Suicide,
Swell Maps,
The Tremeloes,
Spandau Ballet,
The Skatalites,
Monolake,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.