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 Ghana and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 synthesizer 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 Chris Corsano to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bobby Byrd,
Whodini,
Byron Stingily,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ralphi Rosario,
June of 44,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lyres,
Brick,
Scrapy,
Ronnie Foster,
Porter Ricks,
Warren Ellis,
The Techniques,
Glenn Branca,
Iggy Pop,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Five Americans,
Scan 7,
La Düsseldorf,
Delon & Dalcan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The J.B.'s,
Stereo Dub,
The Birthday Party,
a-ha,
Bobby Sherman,
Anakelly,
Andrew Hill,
Second Layer,
Isaac Hayes,
X-102,
X-Ray Spex,
Cameo,
The Selecter,
The Grass Roots,
Morten Harket,
Lucky Dragons,
Reuben Wilson,
Frankie Knuckles,
F. McDonald,
Toni Rubio,
Infiniti,
Soul II Soul,
Rapeman,
Deakin,
UT,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Peter and Kerry,
Michelle Simonal,
Cal Tjader,
The Slackers,
Connie Case,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Cymande,
Angry Samoans,
Albert Ayler,
Dawn Penn,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.