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 Morocco and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Spokane.
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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Con Funk Shun to the jazz 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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
The Golliwogs,
Inner City,
Talk Talk,
This Heat,
the Normal,
Suicide,
Piero Umiliani,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rhythm & Sound,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ultravox,
The Litter,
Todd Rundgren,
Black Bananas,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Flesh Eaters,
Unrelated Segments,
John Cale,
Con Funk Shun,
Supertramp,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Glenn Branca,
The Modern Lovers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Soul II Soul,
Derrick May,
Barrington Levy,
Television,
The Sonics,
Massinfluence,
The Dave Clark Five,
Black Moon,
Jeff Lynne,
Cecil Taylor,
Althea and Donna,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pole,
Oneida,
Vladislav Delay,
Janne Schatter,
Marc Almond,
The Associates,
Traffic Nightmare,
Deakin,
The Standells,
Morten Harket,
Wolf Eyes,
Gong,
Radio Birdman,
Porter Ricks,
The Seeds,
Eric Dolphy,
The Human League,
Silicon Teens,
Sun Ra,
Fat Boys,
Erykah Badu,
Hot Snakes,
L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne.
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.