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 Bangladesh and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Cosmic Jokers to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster 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 sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
K-Klass,
Heaven 17,
Ten City,
The Gories,
DNA,
Spandau Ballet,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ituana,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Tremeloes,
kango's stein massive,
Sparks,
The Stooges,
JFA,
The Sonics,
The Trojans,
U.S. Maple,
Letta Mbulu,
Skarface,
Albert Ayler,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ultra Naté,
10cc,
Glenn Branca,
Barclay James Harvest,
Matthew Halsall,
Danielle Patucci,
The J.B.'s,
Arab on Radar,
The Martian,
Circle Jerks,
Moss Icon,
Pantytec,
These Immortal Souls,
The Electric Prunes,
The Grass Roots,
Nirvana,
Gil Scott Heron,
Minnie Riperton,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
B.T. Express,
Delta 5,
EPMD,
The Zeros,
Technova,
The Monks,
Kevin Saunderson,
AZ,
Yazoo,
Josef K,
Joey Negro,
Blossom Toes,
The Moody Blues,
The Litter,
Radiohead,
Surgeon,
Tom Boy,
Prince Buster,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.