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 Grenada and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 linndrum 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 The Leaves to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Black Dice,
Marcia Griffiths,
Depeche Mode,
The Index,
Ludus,
Roy Ayers,
Brick,
Iggy Pop,
Tears for Fears,
Nils Olav,
Pharoah Sanders,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dorothy Ashby,
Icehouse,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Public Enemy,
The Busters,
Spandau Ballet,
The Martian,
Unrelated Segments,
Bill Wells,
The Mojo Men,
Robert Görl,
Charles Mingus,
Dave Gahan,
Hardrive,
Eric Copeland,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sixth Finger,
Peter and Kerry,
Mark Hollis,
Crooked Eye,
Johnny Clarke,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Theoretical Girls,
The Wake,
The Kinks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wasted Youth,
Crime,
Adolescents,
The Gap Band,
Vainqueur,
Groovy Waters,
Nation of Ulysses,
Stockholm Monsters,
Monolake,
Technova,
Sugar Minott,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Model 500,
Black Flag,
Banda Bassotti,
Sonny Sharrock,
Yellowson,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Second Layer,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lower 48,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.