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 Micronesia and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Nik Kershaw to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Traffic Nightmare,
Man Eating Sloth,
Terrestrial Tones,
Fad Gadget,
Pere Ubu,
Gang Starr,
Nico,
Pierre Henry,
The Monks,
The Move,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Animal Collective,
The Martian,
Arab on Radar,
Radio Birdman,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Toni Rubio,
Sparks,
Crooked Eye,
Spoonie Gee,
Agent Orange,
Fela Kuti,
Monolake,
The Grass Roots,
Fat Boys,
Goldenarms,
Black Moon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Shadows of Knight,
H. Thieme,
The Count Five,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Quando Quango,
The Cure,
Quantec,
Amon Düül II,
The Fire Engines,
The Wake,
Desert Stars,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Roxy Music,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sällskapet,
a-ha,
Oneida,
The Names,
Crash Course in Science,
Crispy Ambulance,
Stockholm Monsters,
Country Teasers,
Pussy Galore,
The Techniques,
Babytalk,
Rekid,
Mark Hollis,
Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül.
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.