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 Japan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Sisters of Mercy to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mighty Diamonds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Hot Snakes,
Colin Newman,
Cybotron,
Procol Harum,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pantytec,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lightning Bolt,
MC5,
The Knickerbockers,
Hardrive,
Dorothy Ashby,
Joey Negro,
Black Moon,
Nico,
The Zeros,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mars,
Unwound,
Pagans,
June Days,
Talk Talk,
The Red Krayola,
Judy Mowatt,
Michelle Simonal,
Buzzcocks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Fire Engines,
The Offenders,
The Fortunes,
The Star Department,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crime,
The Music Machine,
The Human League,
Black Bananas,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Surgeon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Fuzztones,
The Doors,
ABC,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Evens,
Lalann,
Cameo,
Jeff Mills,
Erykah Badu,
Radio Birdman,
EPMD,
John Holt,
Tubeway Army,
Maurizio,
The Blackbyrds,
Matthew Bourne,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gerry Rafferty,
Delta 5,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Litter,
Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter.
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.