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 Macedonia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 marimba 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Stooges. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ohio Players,
Jesper Dahlback,
Roxy Music,
Masters at Work,
Franke,
Boredoms,
Morten Harket,
The United States of America,
Rotary Connection,
Soulsonic Force,
The Neon Judgement,
The Real Kids,
Whodini,
Robert Görl,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Soft Cell,
Jacques Brel,
Terry Callier,
Sonic Youth,
The Dead C,
The Cramps,
Spandau Ballet,
Godley & Creme,
Juan Atkins,
the Normal,
The Walker Brothers,
Bauhaus,
Rapeman,
Altered Images,
Niagra,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Human League,
Sällskapet,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Audionom,
The Sonics,
Darondo,
The Offenders,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mark Hollis,
The Toasters,
Sixth Finger,
Yellowson,
Rekid,
Neu!,
Fat Boys,
Scientists,
D'Angelo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Unrelated Segments,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Leonard Cohen,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Half Japanese,
Eurythmics,
Swell Maps,
Jacob Miller,
Rhythm & Sound,
Eric Dolphy,
Bad Manners,
Lightning Bolt,
The Index,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.