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 Macedonia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare 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 Make Up to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Robert Görl,
Brass Construction,
Fluxion,
Andrew Hill,
Minnie Riperton,
Pantytec,
Letta Mbulu,
Amon Düül,
Circle Jerks,
The Cramps,
Byron Stingily,
Danielle Patucci,
Chris Corsano,
Main Source,
Soft Machine,
Television,
Ornette Coleman,
Amon Düül II,
The Durutti Column,
L. Decosne,
Sonny Sharrock,
Simply Red,
Eli Mardock,
Rekid,
The Gladiators,
Bronski Beat,
Amazonics,
Susan Cadogan,
Rod Modell,
The Fortunes,
Kool Moe Dee,
Anakelly,
The Index,
Bobby Byrd,
Bauhaus,
Aloha Tigers,
John Coltrane,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Alison Limerick,
June of 44,
Cybotron,
Duran Duran,
Al Stewart,
Boz Scaggs,
Wally Richardson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Loose Ends,
Tommy Roe,
Drive Like Jehu,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Suicide,
La Düsseldorf,
Blossom Toes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eden Ahbez,
The Trojans,
John Cale,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Juan Atkins,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gang Starr,
Black Moon,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.