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 Turkmenistan and from Milan.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 the Normal to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Essential Logic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Panda Bear,
The Durutti Column,
Pole,
Grauzone,
New Age Steppers,
Pulsallama,
Hashim,
Minnie Riperton,
Gang Green,
Groovy Waters,
Subhumans,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Marmalade,
The Fire Engines,
Brick,
Wings,
The Skatalites,
Gerry Rafferty,
Wolf Eyes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dave Gahan,
Bob Dylan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kurtis Blow,
Thompson Twins,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nick Fraelich,
Yaz,
The Birthday Party,
Matthew Halsall,
Heaven 17,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Television,
Sixth Finger,
Pussy Galore,
Tropical Tobacco,
Make Up,
Kas Product,
Susan Cadogan,
Bronski Beat,
Ludus,
Blake Baxter,
Ash Ra Tempel,
John Coltrane,
The Blues Magoos,
Lakeside,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Radiohead,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Mark Hollis,
The Divine Comedy,
Barbara Tucker,
Moebius,
Soft Cell,
Kerri Chandler,
Mo-Dettes,
Siglo XX,
the Sonics,
Traffic Nightmare,
Albert Ayler,
Warsaw,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.