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 Oman and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the electroclash 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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Idris Muhammad,
Camberwell Now,
Sly & The Family Stone,
June Days,
Television Personalities,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Mark Hollis,
Sam Rivers,
Public Enemy,
Rapeman,
Talk Talk,
Amazonics,
Grandmaster Flash,
Josef K,
Masters at Work,
the Normal,
Kayak,
Sällskapet,
The Alarm Clocks,
Spandau Ballet,
Eddi Front,
David Axelrod,
Eurythmics,
John Coltrane,
The Selecter,
Drive Like Jehu,
John Foxx,
Moss Icon,
Newcleus,
a-ha,
The Litter,
Bill Wells,
The Vogues,
Babytalk,
Bobby Byrd,
Peter & Gordon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Qualms,
Stiv Bators,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Busters,
The Martian,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Royal Trux,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Gun Club,
Lou Reed,
Boz Scaggs,
Vladislav Delay,
China Crisis,
AZ,
Connie Case,
Erykah Badu,
Mo-Dettes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pere Ubu,
Depeche Mode,
Tubeway Army,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.