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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 synthesizer 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 Lyres to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ronan. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
Henry Cow,
Visage,
Cal Tjader,
Aswad,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Essential Logic,
Soul II Soul,
Robert Hood,
Nils Olav,
John Foxx,
Sex Pistols,
Motorama,
Severed Heads,
Pere Ubu,
Skriet,
Bush Tetras,
David Bowie,
Derrick May,
Aloha Tigers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Popol Vuh,
CMW,
Eddi Front,
Slave,
Peter & Gordon,
Sister Nancy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Young Rascals,
Charles Mingus,
Kerri Chandler,
Fela Kuti,
The Monks,
The Skatalites,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Depeche Mode,
The Gun Club,
UT,
Bad Manners,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dark Day,
Mantronix,
Juan Atkins,
Bobby Byrd,
Fat Boys,
Qualms,
The Busters,
Mission of Burma,
Sun Ra,
Joensuu 1685,
Bob Dylan,
Tears for Fears,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Buckinghams,
Crime,
Parry Music,
Cheater Slicks,
Eve St. Jones,
The Smoke,
Liliput,
Model 500,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.