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 Lesotho and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Scientists to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
U.S. Maple,
Kenny Larkin,
X-Ray Spex,
Hasil Adkins,
Minny Pops,
The Angels of Light,
Agitation Free,
Scan 7,
The Motions,
Leonard Cohen,
Bronski Beat,
Groovy Waters,
Barry Ungar,
the Swans,
Au Pairs,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Germs,
The Associates,
The Cramps,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Clear Light,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Leaves,
Freddie Wadling,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Vogues,
Delta 5,
Scratch Acid,
Blake Baxter,
Nirvana,
CMW,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tim Buckley,
The Durutti Column,
Crispian St. Peters,
DJ Sneak,
The Velvet Underground,
In Retrospect,
Oblivians,
Marmalade,
Yaz,
Kas Product,
China Crisis,
The Saints,
Con Funk Shun,
Chris Corsano,
Todd Terry,
Glenn Branca,
Amon Düül II,
Radiohead,
Minnie Riperton,
Stereo Dub,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Minutemen,
Eric Dolphy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Pretty Things,
The Birthday Party,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.