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 Somalia and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Animal Collective to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
One Last Wish,
The Beau Brummels,
The Five Americans,
Barry Ungar,
Judy Mowatt,
Average White Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Throbbing Gristle,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Derrick May,
Skarface,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Depeche Mode,
Technova,
Wally Richardson,
Tom Boy,
Ultra Naté,
Freddie Wadling,
Roxette,
X-Ray Spex,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Count Five,
Arab on Radar,
Outsiders,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kerri Chandler,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Audionom,
JFA,
Spoonie Gee,
the Slits,
Ohio Players,
Josef K,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Fluxion,
Pussy Galore,
Marmalade,
The Neon Judgement,
Sex Pistols,
Desert Stars,
Echospace,
Mantronix,
Jandek,
Marcia Griffiths,
Motorama,
Gong,
Henry Cow,
Matthew Bourne,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tomorrow,
Thompson Twins,
Adolescents,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Blancmange,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Fortunes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.