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 Afghanistan and from New York.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and London.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Mad Mike to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alphaville record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Brass Construction,
The Sonics,
Brothers Johnson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Wally Richardson,
Vladislav Delay,
Organ,
The Flesh Eaters,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Patti Smith,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Wolf Eyes,
Maurizio,
Nils Olav,
The Alarm Clocks,
New Age Steppers,
Sight & Sound,
Faraquet,
Liliput,
Joe Smooth,
The Martian,
The Detroit Cobras,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bobby Womack,
Cybotron,
Toni Rubio,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Neil Young,
Delta 5,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Con Funk Shun,
Ice-T,
The Searchers,
Banda Bassotti,
Nico,
Rosa Yemen,
Zero Boys,
Franke,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Suicide,
Scion,
Quadrant,
Radiohead,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pussy Galore,
Grey Daturas,
Gang Gang Dance,
Yusef Lateef,
Eden Ahbez,
One Last Wish,
the Slits,
Barry Ungar,
Marmalade,
The Black Dice,
The Divine Comedy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mandrill,
Marvin Gaye,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.