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 Botswana 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 rhodes 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 Sparks to the electroclash 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shuggie Otis,
Panda Bear,
Can,
Zapp,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ludus,
Khruangbin,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Moleskins,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gang Green,
Radio Birdman,
Rites of Spring,
Intrusion,
Ohio Players,
Main Source,
Stetsasonic,
Bluetip,
Lalann,
Althea and Donna,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bootsy Collins,
Tears for Fears,
The Victims,
Brick,
The Real Kids,
The Sonics,
Bill Wells,
Audionom,
Todd Rundgren,
T.S.O.L.,
Model 500,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Goldenarms,
The Gladiators,
Glenn Branca,
The Toasters,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
a-ha,
Lou Christie,
Scrapy,
Sound Behaviour,
Whodini,
Colin Newman,
The Techniques,
Blossom Toes,
Television,
Robert Hood,
Sarah Menescal,
Ponytail,
Patti Smith,
EPMD,
Nick Fraelich,
John Cale,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Boz Scaggs,
the Human League,
Junior Murvin,
New York Dolls,
The Slits,
Fat Boys,
Mandrill,
Arab on Radar,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.