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 Hungary and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Radiopuhelimet to the grunge 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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Freddie Wadling,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Cramps,
The Moody Blues,
Soft Machine,
Sarah Menescal,
The Gladiators,
Crash Course in Science,
Von Mondo,
The Smiths,
Unwound,
Grauzone,
Can,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Associates,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Nirvana,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Girls At Our Best!,
Amon Düül,
The American Breed,
The Raincoats,
Pylon,
The Searchers,
Dead Boys,
Nik Kershaw,
Fugazi,
Man Eating Sloth,
Patti Smith,
Royal Trux,
Bobby Byrd,
The Wake,
Gong,
Severed Heads,
The Pretty Things,
Eli Mardock,
Big Daddy Kane,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Monks,
Althea and Donna,
Lou Christie,
Danielle Patucci,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Chrome,
Agitation Free,
Marmalade,
The Dirtbombs,
Sister Nancy,
Surgeon,
Moby Grape,
Aaron Thompson,
Circle Jerks,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Electric Light Orchestra,
Blake Baxter,
Soft Cell,
Desert Stars,
The Evens,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
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.