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 Nicaragua and from Beijing.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Marc Almond to the electroclash 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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
8 Eyed Spy,
Delta 5,
Sam Rivers,
Darondo,
Unwound,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sexual Harrassment,
John Cale,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Zero Boys,
Lebanon Hanover,
JFA,
The Sonics,
The Cowsills,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jeff Lynne,
Saccharine Trust,
Barry Ungar,
The Evens,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Patti Smith,
The Toasters,
Marvin Gaye,
The Dirtbombs,
Aaron Thompson,
Panda Bear,
The Sound,
Lyres,
Mr. Review,
The Fortunes,
Electric Prunes,
Albert Ayler,
Ralphi Rosario,
Unrelated Segments,
The Dead C,
John Coltrane,
These Immortal Souls,
Godley & Creme,
Technova,
Byron Stingily,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Johnny Clarke,
DJ Style,
Magma,
The Gap Band,
Circle Jerks,
Organ,
Erasure,
Parry Music,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cluster,
the Normal,
Rakim,
Pole,
Marmalade,
DNA,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Neil Young,
Marc Almond,
Hot Snakes,
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.