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 Turkmenistan and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 The Doors to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
The Fugs,
Mark Hollis,
One Last Wish,
Archie Shepp,
The Neon Judgement,
the Germs,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bad Manners,
Negative Approach,
Barry Ungar,
Jesper Dahlback,
Franke,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Saccharine Trust,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nik Kershaw,
Pharoah Sanders,
Quantec,
The Detroit Cobras,
Harry Pussy,
Intrusion,
The Dave Clark Five,
Chrome,
Matthew Bourne,
Easy Going,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sight & Sound,
Joe Finger,
ABBA,
These Immortal Souls,
Livin' Joy,
Sällskapet,
Frankie Knuckles,
Visage,
Moebius,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sister Nancy,
Terrestrial Tones,
This Heat,
Sonny Sharrock,
Panda Bear,
Gang Gang Dance,
Shoche,
Crooked Eye,
Thompson Twins,
Echospace,
Nico,
Cal Tjader,
Marine Girls,
Wally Richardson,
Darondo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Outsiders,
Loose Ends,
Malaria!,
Icehouse,
Ice-T,
The Barracudas,
Johnny Osbourne,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.