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 Andorra and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 sitar 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 Yazoo to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Aaron Thompson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Warren Ellis,
Alton Ellis,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Real Kids,
Man Parrish,
Spandau Ballet,
Bill Near,
Lou Reed,
Neu!,
The Modern Lovers,
Chrome,
The Happenings,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Flash Fearless,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Gun Club,
Wings,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Los Fastidios,
Maurizio,
Thompson Twins,
Minny Pops,
Big Daddy Kane,
Steve Hackett,
the Association,
the Bar-Kays,
Spoonie Gee,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rosa Yemen,
Radiohead,
Tom Boy,
Funky Four + One,
Icehouse,
Babytalk,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Circle Jerks,
Piero Umiliani,
Mo-Dettes,
The Martian,
The Move,
Metal Thangz,
B.T. Express,
Morten Harket,
Josef K,
Black Sheep,
Dawn Penn,
Judy Mowatt,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Young Rascals,
Rapeman,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Surgeon,
Hoover,
KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One.
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.