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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Thee Headcoats to the disco 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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
Mr. Review,
Yazoo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Nik Kershaw,
Theoretical Girls,
Eurythmics,
the Soft Cell,
Radio Birdman,
Jeff Lynne,
Traffic Nightmare,
Audionom,
Desert Stars,
The Residents,
The Music Machine,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sun City Girls,
Althea and Donna,
Kerri Chandler,
Jacob Miller,
Blake Baxter,
Minnie Riperton,
Scratch Acid,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pantaleimon,
Tommy Roe,
Eddi Front,
The Cramps,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rapeman,
Reagan Youth,
Zapp,
Roy Ayers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Aural Exciters,
The American Breed,
Kerrie Biddell,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Thompson Twins,
Magma,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Drive Like Jehu,
Drexciya,
James White and The Blacks,
Niagra,
Terry Callier,
Symarip,
Country Joe & The Fish,
John Foxx,
The Busters,
Bob Dylan,
Donald Byrd,
Stetsasonic,
Outsiders,
The Modern Lovers,
Eric Copeland,
Juan Atkins,
Aaron Thompson,
Matthew Halsall,
Bootsy Collins,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band.
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.