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 Turkmenistan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Jakarta.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Desert Stars to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Wire,
Mandrill,
The Beau Brummels,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Roy Ayers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Spandau Ballet,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
the Human League,
X-101,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bronski Beat,
Anakelly,
Bluetip,
DJ Sneak,
Black Bananas,
Colin Newman,
Dawn Penn,
The Buckinghams,
Roxette,
David Axelrod,
The Trojans,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Moody Blues,
David McCallum,
Roger Hodgson,
The Pretty Things,
Magma,
Eli Mardock,
The Angels of Light,
Massinfluence,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Byron Stingily,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Leaves,
X-Ray Spex,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Organ,
Lalann,
David Bowie,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eve St. Jones,
Ludus,
The Evens,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Stiv Bators,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gil Scott Heron,
Spoonie Gee,
Hoover,
The Human League,
Slick Rick,
The Techniques,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tres Demented,
The Kinks,
Audionom,
Oneida,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.