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 Bahamas and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Porter Ricks to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin 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 harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Human League,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Motorama,
Harry Pussy,
Soulsonic Force,
Lakeside,
Ronan,
Rosa Yemen,
Quando Quango,
Marshall Jefferson,
Heaven 17,
The Sonics,
Sällskapet,
Q and Not U,
Bronski Beat,
Spoonie Gee,
Lungfish,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Andrew Hill,
F. McDonald,
Banda Bassotti,
The Doors,
Pole,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gang Starr,
Joyce Sims,
Max Romeo,
X-101,
Los Fastidios,
T. Rex,
In Retrospect,
The Toasters,
Joensuu 1685,
Pierre Henry,
Connie Case,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pantytec,
Althea and Donna,
The Kinks,
The Raincoats,
Vladislav Delay,
Delta 5,
Lindisfarne,
Sam Rivers,
John Lydon,
The Real Kids,
Popol Vuh,
The New Christs,
the Germs,
Crispian St. Peters,
Avey Tare,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Qualms,
Peter and Kerry,
Danielle Patucci,
Michelle Simonal,
Organ,
Icehouse,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.