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 Ivory Coast and from Mumbai.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Martian to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
The Alarm Clocks,
PIL,
The Searchers,
Erasure,
New York Dolls,
Albert Ayler,
the Association,
Duran Duran,
The Vogues,
The Monochrome Set,
Byron Stingily,
The Zeros,
Crash Course in Science,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Franke,
Sound Behaviour,
Johnny Clarke,
John Foxx,
Das Ding,
Flash Fearless,
The J.B.'s,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sällskapet,
Faraquet,
Parry Music,
Arcadia,
Faust,
Dennis Brown,
Brass Construction,
Eric Dolphy,
Urselle,
Gong,
The Star Department,
The Monks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Hashim,
Second Layer,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Dark Day,
Aswad,
Nick Fraelich,
Bobby Womack,
Skriet,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Cheater Slicks,
The Move,
Carl Craig,
Oblivians,
Kerrie Biddell,
Simply Red,
Eve St. Jones,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Flipper,
The Grass Roots,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pylon,
Fela Kuti,
Intrusion,
Slick Rick,
David Bowie,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.