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 Pakistan and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Byron Stingily to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Country Teasers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Audionom,
Radiopuhelimet,
Minny Pops,
the Human League,
Pet Shop Boys,
Todd Terry,
Stiv Bators,
Tears for Fears,
Quando Quango,
A Certain Ratio,
Crispy Ambulance,
Television,
The Divine Comedy,
Eric Copeland,
Bobby Sherman,
Magma,
The Tremeloes,
Roxette,
Susan Cadogan,
Charles Mingus,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Rapeman,
JFA,
The Blackbyrds,
The Detroit Cobras,
Soul II Soul,
Quadrant,
Bauhaus,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Adolescents,
Anakelly,
Crooked Eye,
The Real Kids,
Aloha Tigers,
Soft Machine,
Eli Mardock,
Crispian St. Peters,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Easy Going,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Amon Düül II,
Bad Manners,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Selecter,
Cybotron,
Zapp,
MDC,
U.S. Maple,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Albert Ayler,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kaleidoscope,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.