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 Bolivia and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Beijing.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Tropical Tobacco to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
Mary Jane Girls,
Electric Prunes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sonic Youth,
Gang Gang Dance,
Model 500,
Traffic Nightmare,
Black Bananas,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Second Layer,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rapeman,
Lyres,
Gregory Isaacs,
Supertramp,
Q65,
Niagra,
UT,
Bauhaus,
Black Moon,
Hot Snakes,
Lou Reed,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Darondo,
The Zeros,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Aloha Tigers,
Tres Demented,
Buzzcocks,
The Seeds,
The Fugs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Surgeon,
Mad Mike,
Pierre Henry,
Unrelated Segments,
Ludus,
Clear Light,
Unwound,
The Grass Roots,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Mummies,
Pere Ubu,
Peter & Gordon,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Saints,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Knickerbockers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Skriet,
Sun City Girls,
The Gap Band,
Quantec,
New Order,
Half Japanese,
The Human League,
The Golliwogs,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.