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 San Marino and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Ice-T to the jazz 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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Matthew Halsall,
Electric Prunes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Soft Cell,
Bluetip,
Joyce Sims,
Jimmy McGriff,
June of 44,
Black Sheep,
Mo-Dettes,
Drexciya,
Crime,
Traffic Nightmare,
Suburban Knight,
Nico,
Marcia Griffiths,
David McCallum,
Godley & Creme,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Unwound,
Heaven 17,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cameo,
Bob Dylan,
The Selecter,
Arcadia,
Hot Snakes,
Average White Band,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ohio Players,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Theoretical Girls,
The Trojans,
Joe Smooth,
World's Most,
Radiopuhelimet,
Erasure,
In Retrospect,
Negative Approach,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ultra Naté,
Soft Machine,
The Grass Roots,
Kerrie Biddell,
X-102,
Inner City,
Trumans Water,
Reagan Youth,
The Zeros,
The Victims,
The Mojo Men,
The Motions,
Prince Buster,
The Slits,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marvin Gaye,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sexual Harrassment,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.