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 Benin and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Alarm Clocks to the techno 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 Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Donald Byrd,
Von Mondo,
Pussy Galore,
ABC,
Flamin' Groovies,
Todd Rundgren,
The Saints,
Barbara Tucker,
Yazoo,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pere Ubu,
Fugazi,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
48th St. Collective,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
MC5,
kango's stein massive,
Royal Trux,
Fat Boys,
Cecil Taylor,
Country Teasers,
Subhumans,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jawbox,
Eric B and Rakim,
Slick Rick,
Aswad,
Freddie Wadling,
Dave Gahan,
Kayak,
The Index,
Porter Ricks,
Shoche,
Black Moon,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Suicide,
Gil Scott Heron,
Don Cherry,
Nirvana,
Johnny Clarke,
The Count Five,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gregory Isaacs,
Japan,
This Heat,
Negative Approach,
The Busters,
cv313,
L. Decosne,
Delon & Dalcan,
DNA,
Roxette,
Hoover,
The United States of America,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Whodini,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.