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 Grenada and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Holger Czukay 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 James White and The Blacks to the techno 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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All Dawn Penn tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
CMW,
Lungfish,
Mr. Review,
Lakeside,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Tremeloes,
Jacques Brel,
Bill Near,
Clear Light,
Inner City,
Adolescents,
Slave,
Y Pants,
Gabor Szabo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jandek,
Desert Stars,
Brand Nubian,
Lebanon Hanover,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Robert Hood,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Q and Not U,
Iggy Pop,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rakim,
The Slits,
Man Eating Sloth,
Easy Going,
Al Stewart,
The Mighty Diamonds,
R.M.O.,
Rufus Thomas,
The Golliwogs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Blackbyrds,
Dark Day,
The Beau Brummels,
Marine Girls,
The Dirtbombs,
Index,
Jawbox,
H. Thieme,
Eli Mardock,
The Music Machine,
Throbbing Gristle,
Hashim,
Bad Manners,
Frankie Knuckles,
Visage,
Sonny Sharrock,
E-Dancer,
Fugazi,
Spandau Ballet,
Goldenarms,
Flash Fearless,
Silicon Teens,
Banda Bassotti,
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.