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 Uruguay and from Halifax.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the theremin 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 James White and The Blacks to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
This Heat,
Joey Negro,
Soft Machine,
Morten Harket,
Black Pus,
Alison Limerick,
Guru Guru,
Sun City Girls,
Swell Maps,
Quantec,
Chris & Cosey,
Quadrant,
Schoolly D,
Severed Heads,
The Smiths,
Rotary Connection,
Bad Manners,
Agent Orange,
Johnny Clarke,
the Normal,
Funkadelic,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scientists,
Tres Demented,
DNA,
The Litter,
The Smoke,
Nik Kershaw,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Golliwogs,
Bob Dylan,
Loose Ends,
Man Eating Sloth,
Absolute Body Control,
The Slackers,
Juan Atkins,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Searchers,
The Busters,
Sex Pistols,
D'Angelo,
Japan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Amazonics,
the Association,
Technova,
World's Most,
Young Marble Giants,
Little Man,
Pylon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Eurythmics,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Country Teasers,
Cameo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fugazi,
The Monks,
James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions.
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.