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 Lebanon and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Susan Cadogan to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All Peter and Kerry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Simply Red,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Modern Lovers,
The Monks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Aswad,
cv313,
Bobby Sherman,
Bobby Byrd,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Vogues,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sight & Sound,
Johnny Osbourne,
DJ Style,
Nation of Ulysses,
Quadrant,
Warren Ellis,
Mr. Review,
Rakim,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jesper Dahlback,
OOIOO,
The Dead C,
Girls At Our Best!,
Derrick May,
Leonard Cohen,
Aloha Tigers,
Radiohead,
The Smoke,
Whodini,
Barbara Tucker,
Cal Tjader,
Loose Ends,
Pulsallama,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Television,
Arab on Radar,
Delta 5,
Jacob Miller,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Germs,
Monks,
Howard Jones,
Lebanon Hanover,
China Crisis,
the Swans,
Nico,
Scientists,
Stetsasonic,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Five Americans,
The Durutti Column,
Sound Behaviour,
Amon Düül,
48th St. Collective,
Sexual Harrassment,
Harpers Bizarre,
Blake Baxter,
the Sonics,
Rosa Yemen,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.