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 Cyprus and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 rhodes 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 Mars to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pagans,
Spandau Ballet,
Guru Guru,
Stereo Dub,
Curtis Mayfield,
Con Funk Shun,
Maurizio,
The Dead C,
Rekid,
Eden Ahbez,
Wire,
Gong,
The Blues Magoos,
Siglo XX,
UT,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joe Smooth,
Dennis Brown,
Vainqueur,
Maleditus Sound,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Nico,
Donny Hathaway,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dorothy Ashby,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Altered Images,
Juan Atkins,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sex Pistols,
Kenny Larkin,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Seeds,
Frankie Knuckles,
Big Daddy Kane,
John Holt,
Johnny Clarke,
Magazine,
K-Klass,
Warren Ellis,
The Gun Club,
the Association,
Joy Division,
Marvin Gaye,
Audionom,
Reagan Youth,
The Mummies,
Andrew Hill,
the Soft Cell,
Zapp,
The Young Rascals,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Smoke,
David Bowie,
Ken Boothe,
Soul II Soul,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.