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 Bhutan and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Cairo.
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 harpsichord 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 ABC. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Model 500,
X-102,
Ice-T,
Spoonie Gee,
Tomorrow,
Arab on Radar,
Ponytail,
Gabor Szabo,
Heaven 17,
Black Bananas,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Wake,
Camouflage,
Accadde A,
Groovy Waters,
Kayak,
Sun Ra,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Gun Club,
Bill Near,
Crash Course in Science,
Darondo,
Rufus Thomas,
Minny Pops,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pierre Henry,
Nirvana,
Cybotron,
Symarip,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pharoah Sanders,
FM Einheit,
Kool Moe Dee,
Faust,
Severed Heads,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pylon,
Los Fastidios,
Jeff Mills,
Neu!,
Eli Mardock,
Susan Cadogan,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jandek,
The Vogues,
Pantaleimon,
Deakin,
Talk Talk,
Stockholm Monsters,
Vainqueur,
The Selecter,
Fat Boys,
Nico,
Angry Samoans,
Todd Rundgren,
Qualms,
Das Ding,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.