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 Romania and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Byron Stingily to the electroclash 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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All CMW tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter 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 linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Trumans Water,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Roy Ayers,
Aswad,
Erasure,
Crispian St. Peters,
Depeche Mode,
Joyce Sims,
Underground Resistance,
Icehouse,
Laurel Aitken,
Gang Starr,
Maurizio,
The Alarm Clocks,
Monks,
Amon Düül II,
Groovy Waters,
Interpol,
Jeru the Damaja,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Black Pus,
Ronan,
10cc,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Blancmange,
Talk Talk,
Davy DMX,
Tomorrow,
The Buckinghams,
Vladislav Delay,
the Soft Cell,
Lower 48,
Faust,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Pretty Things,
Fat Boys,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Michelle Simonal,
Hoover,
Black Flag,
Blossom Toes,
the Bar-Kays,
Reagan Youth,
Gerry Rafferty,
The J.B.'s,
Tubeway Army,
The Wake,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Fire Engines,
Brass Construction,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Modern Lovers,
Soft Machine,
The Angels of Light,
Porter Ricks,
JFA,
James White and The Blacks,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.