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 Nauru and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mexico City.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Groovy Waters to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pet Shop Boys,
Black Moon,
Television,
Von Mondo,
U.S. Maple,
Rites of Spring,
Carl Craig,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Fugs,
Donald Byrd,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Thee Headcoats,
Archie Shepp,
Radio Birdman,
The Slits,
the Swans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Cybotron,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ice-T,
The Saints,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Joensuu 1685,
Fugazi,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Spoonie Gee,
Stiv Bators,
Moebius,
Pussy Galore,
Eve St. Jones,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Stooges,
Chris & Cosey,
Altered Images,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Golliwogs,
Marmalade,
Robert Wyatt,
Franke,
The Star Department,
Excepter,
MDC,
the Human League,
The Blues Magoos,
The Walker Brothers,
Sarah Menescal,
Second Layer,
Eric Copeland,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Janne Schatter,
Sexual Harrassment,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pere Ubu,
EPMD,
Sun City Girls,
Basic Channel,
Colin Newman,
The Monochrome Set,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.