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 Iran and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Judy Mowatt to the punk 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
ABC,
Marc Almond,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bush Tetras,
Rod Modell,
Man Parrish,
Kaleidoscope,
The Count Five,
The Dead C,
The Zeros,
Suicide,
Barry Ungar,
Nick Fraelich,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Matthew Halsall,
Visage,
Jerry Gold Smith,
FM Einheit,
Sällskapet,
Bang On A Can,
Black Pus,
Kenny Larkin,
The Associates,
Deakin,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Sonics,
Depeche Mode,
Schoolly D,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Derrick May,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Normal,
D'Angelo,
Sixth Finger,
The Barracudas,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eurythmics,
Little Man,
Groovy Waters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
One Last Wish,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Jacob Miller,
Anakelly,
Anthony Braxton,
Pulsallama,
Panda Bear,
The Raincoats,
Colin Newman,
B.T. Express,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Black Moon,
Vladislav Delay,
Big Daddy Kane,
June of 44,
Bronski Beat,
New Age Steppers,
Young Marble Giants,
Whodini,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Standells,
Nation of Ulysses,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.