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 Nepal and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Accra.
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 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 Holger Czukay 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 OOIOO to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Massinfluence record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Amon Düül,
Depeche Mode,
Dual Sessions,
Make Up,
This Heat,
Barry Ungar,
L. Decosne,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Magazine,
Scientists,
Scan 7,
Fugazi,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Yaz,
Ronnie Foster,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sugar Minott,
Cal Tjader,
Gong,
Lou Reed,
Albert Ayler,
Aloha Tigers,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Gap Band,
Nico,
Neil Young,
Section 25,
Whodini,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sight & Sound,
Skarface,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Stereo Dub,
Sun City Girls,
Minnie Riperton,
The Slits,
Letta Mbulu,
UT,
Mission of Burma,
The Searchers,
Derrick Morgan,
Public Enemy,
The Beau Brummels,
The Neon Judgement,
Heaven 17,
Alphaville,
Urselle,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Skatalites,
Donny Hathaway,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Joe Finger,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sandy B,
Sonny Sharrock,
ABC,
Traffic Nightmare,
Spandau Ballet,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.