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 Dominican Republic and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 arpeggiator 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 Mark Hollis 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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skarface,
Kenny Larkin,
The Fortunes,
Tres Demented,
Mandrill,
Boz Scaggs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bauhaus,
The Zeros,
F. McDonald,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pylon,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Niagra,
Eddi Front,
Aural Exciters,
the Soft Cell,
Trumans Water,
The Cramps,
Unrelated Segments,
New York Dolls,
The Offenders,
The New Christs,
Bob Dylan,
Suicide,
Arab on Radar,
8 Eyed Spy,
Oblivians,
The Cure,
Ultra Naté,
The Dave Clark Five,
KRS-One,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Matthew Halsall,
Al Stewart,
Bluetip,
Minny Pops,
Jesper Dahlback,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rosa Yemen,
The Sonics,
Harmonia,
The Slackers,
Shuggie Otis,
Althea and Donna,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lou Christie,
Yellowson,
Cybotron,
Donald Byrd,
EPMD,
Neu!,
Ohio Players,
DJ Sneak,
L. Decosne,
Mr. Review,
The Modern Lovers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Livin' Joy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Fad Gadget,
Boogie Down Productions,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.