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 Belize and from Manchester.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Crash Course in Science to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Little Man,
the Human League,
Organ,
Bronski Beat,
The Blackbyrds,
Chris & Cosey,
June of 44,
Jesper Dahlback,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Depeche Mode,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Los Fastidios,
Robert Hood,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Morten Harket,
Icehouse,
Max Romeo,
The Mummies,
Derrick Morgan,
Malaria!,
John Holt,
H. Thieme,
Sonic Youth,
Jandek,
Derrick May,
Hoover,
Harpers Bizarre,
Man Parrish,
Yellowson,
Wire,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rekid,
The Sound,
The Birthday Party,
The Sonics,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Black Bananas,
Connie Case,
Pussy Galore,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ludus,
Loose Ends,
E-Dancer,
Sarah Menescal,
Swans,
Boz Scaggs,
Kas Product,
World's Most,
The Move,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bobby Byrd,
Pere Ubu,
Wolf Eyes,
The Smoke,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bizarre Inc.,
Mr. Review,
Shoche,
Marine Girls,
Lindisfarne,
the Germs,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.