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 Honduras and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 oboe 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 Harry Pussy to the dance 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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Charles Mingus,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Clear Light,
Avey Tare,
Jacques Brel,
Neil Young,
Dawn Penn,
Boredoms,
Sällskapet,
The Shadows of Knight,
Electric Prunes,
OOIOO,
Reagan Youth,
Ralphi Rosario,
Unrelated Segments,
PIL,
Iggy Pop,
The Cramps,
Godley & Creme,
Graham Central Station,
Lalo Schifrin,
Nick Fraelich,
Outsiders,
Vladislav Delay,
The Busters,
A Certain Ratio,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The American Breed,
Make Up,
R.M.O.,
Stiv Bators,
Vainqueur,
Kevin Saunderson,
Guru Guru,
Bronski Beat,
Scan 7,
Bobbi Humphrey,
In Retrospect,
Eden Ahbez,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
the Association,
Jawbox,
Television Personalities,
The Wake,
Angry Samoans,
Absolute Body Control,
The Young Rascals,
Tim Buckley,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Monks,
Rakim,
John Lydon,
New Age Steppers,
Goldenarms,
John Holt,
Johnny Osbourne,
Tears for Fears,
Fear,
The Divine Comedy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Crash Course in Science,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.