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 Brazil and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Marc Almond to the dance 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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quantec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Blossom Toes,
Minny Pops,
The Remains,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Dirtbombs,
The Neon Judgement,
Junior Murvin,
Mo-Dettes,
Juan Atkins,
Severed Heads,
Tres Demented,
Carl Craig,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bobby Byrd,
Fad Gadget,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gang Gang Dance,
Wolf Eyes,
The Techniques,
The Cramps,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fugazi,
X-101,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Clear Light,
E-Dancer,
Marvin Gaye,
Marcia Griffiths,
Roger Hodgson,
Cameo,
Aloha Tigers,
Erasure,
Dorothy Ashby,
Thee Headcoats,
10cc,
Bush Tetras,
Barbara Tucker,
Nils Olav,
Deepchord,
Cymande,
Depeche Mode,
Shoche,
Neil Young,
Kayak,
Jacques Brel,
The Smiths,
MDC,
The Last Poets,
Maleditus Sound,
The Flesh Eaters,
Guru Guru,
Amazonics,
Mars,
Pantytec,
Index,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jacob Miller,
Massinfluence,
Delon & Dalcan,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.