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 Belgium and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ 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 Eddi Front to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
the Soft Cell,
Pantaleimon,
Erasure,
The Blackbyrds,
The Doors,
Pharoah Sanders,
Siglo XX,
Theoretical Girls,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Panda Bear,
The Count Five,
The Index,
Interpol,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Byron Stingily,
Black Bananas,
The Tremeloes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Fall,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Goldenarms,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Barry Ungar,
Blancmange,
Cybotron,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Idris Muhammad,
Tres Demented,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Skatalites,
Cymande,
Ornette Coleman,
Black Moon,
Roxette,
Janne Schatter,
Stetsasonic,
Echospace,
Y Pants,
The Fortunes,
Soulsonic Force,
Brothers Johnson,
Visage,
Lightning Bolt,
Aaron Thompson,
Ponytail,
Grey Daturas,
Tubeway Army,
Cameo,
Arthur Verocai,
DNA,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Barrington Levy,
David McCallum,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Symarip,
The Dead C,
Kool Moe Dee,
Avey Tare,
Piero Umiliani,
Hardrive,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.