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 Mali and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Jacques Brel to the grunge 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Harry Pussy,
Technova,
Blancmange,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Babytalk,
Crash Course in Science,
Cybotron,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sonic Youth,
Groovy Waters,
Marvin Gaye,
Ice-T,
Sugar Minott,
Hoover,
Sarah Menescal,
The United States of America,
Pantytec,
Josef K,
Junior Murvin,
Deadbeat,
The Standells,
The Angels of Light,
Gang of Four,
James White and The Blacks,
The Saints,
Ponytail,
Grandmaster Flash,
Marine Girls,
Fluxion,
Metal Thangz,
AZ,
Electric Prunes,
Robert Wyatt,
Clear Light,
New York Dolls,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Chris Corsano,
Supertramp,
The Music Machine,
Marshall Jefferson,
Procol Harum,
Mantronix,
John Coltrane,
The Mojo Men,
Section 25,
Easy Going,
Pantaleimon,
kango's stein massive,
Gastr Del Sol,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lou Christie,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pulsallama,
Q65,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Model 500,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban 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.