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 New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 linndrum 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the disco 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 the Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Goldenarms,
Black Pus,
Mr. Review,
Gabor Szabo,
The Residents,
Faust,
Moebius,
cv313,
Smog,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Metal Thangz,
Monks,
La Düsseldorf,
Ituana,
The Detroit Cobras,
Brass Construction,
Matthew Bourne,
Donald Byrd,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Minnie Riperton,
Cymande,
Brothers Johnson,
Thompson Twins,
The Index,
The American Breed,
a-ha,
World's Most,
Eli Mardock,
Hasil Adkins,
Camouflage,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cal Tjader,
The Skatalites,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Velvet Underground,
Suicide,
Suburban Knight,
Joe Finger,
Symarip,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Basic Channel,
Scratch Acid,
Eve St. Jones,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ice-T,
The Offenders,
Funkadelic,
D'Angelo,
New York Dolls,
Rakim,
Wire,
the Fania All-Stars,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
the Swans,
Chris Corsano,
Soft Cell,
Jeff Lynne,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.