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 Yemen and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 crunk 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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Velvet Underground,
Funky Four + One,
the Soft Cell,
The Gladiators,
Steve Hackett,
Stockholm Monsters,
Model 500,
Von Mondo,
The Slackers,
Heaven 17,
JFA,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Sonics,
Tim Buckley,
Ohio Players,
Rapeman,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Matthew Halsall,
Moss Icon,
CMW,
Althea and Donna,
Man Eating Sloth,
Chrome,
Tommy Roe,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pylon,
Hardrive,
Wasted Youth,
Eden Ahbez,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pole,
Easy Going,
Ludus,
the Slits,
Adolescents,
Sonny Sharrock,
The United States of America,
Skriet,
Crash Course in Science,
Bobby Sherman,
Bush Tetras,
Throbbing Gristle,
E-Dancer,
Con Funk Shun,
Joyce Sims,
Kayak,
Simply Red,
The Fortunes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Spandau Ballet,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Groovy Waters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Babytalk,
Bootsy Collins,
Boredoms,
Ken Boothe,
Deakin,
Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes.
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.