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 Sri Lanka and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Portland.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Joe Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Negative Approach,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scott Walker,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Vogues,
World's Most,
Massinfluence,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Q65,
Young Marble Giants,
Swell Maps,
Soft Machine,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cecil Taylor,
Easy Going,
Roy Ayers,
Boredoms,
Eli Mardock,
Barbara Tucker,
Nick Fraelich,
Blossom Toes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Robert Hood,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Janne Schatter,
Todd Rundgren,
Letta Mbulu,
Agitation Free,
Zero Boys,
The Fire Engines,
Sister Nancy,
Urselle,
The Grass Roots,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Smoke,
The Mummies,
The Five Americans,
The Misunderstood,
Bobby Byrd,
Kerrie Biddell,
Theoretical Girls,
Gang Starr,
Lucky Dragons,
Joensuu 1685,
Andrew Hill,
Sarah Menescal,
Radio Birdman,
Josef K,
Japan,
Minor Threat,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Erasure,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Monks,
Yusef Lateef,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sex Pistols,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.