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 Slovakia and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 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 T.S.O.L. to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aaron Thompson,
Monolake,
Parry Music,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Count Five,
Lyres,
Stetsasonic,
Lalo Schifrin,
Avey Tare,
the Sonics,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Severed Heads,
Shuggie Otis,
The Trojans,
Mr. Review,
Drexciya,
Scientists,
The Monochrome Set,
David Bowie,
Nick Fraelich,
Quantec,
Babytalk,
Judy Mowatt,
Malaria!,
Los Fastidios,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mission of Burma,
Todd Rundgren,
Joe Smooth,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Fear,
Can,
Danielle Patucci,
Lightning Bolt,
Lungfish,
A Certain Ratio,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lakeside,
Pharoah Sanders,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Audionom,
Magazine,
Soft Machine,
New York Dolls,
the Human League,
Pylon,
T.S.O.L.,
The Walker Brothers,
New Order,
Maleditus Sound,
Ice-T,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Move,
The Kinks,
Mantronix,
Bang On A Can,
The Index,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.