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 Mozambique and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 Barrington Levy to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lyres record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Barrington Levy,
Japan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kayak,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Sonics,
48th St. Collective,
Duran Duran,
John Foxx,
Colin Newman,
Morten Harket,
Sight & Sound,
The Pretty Things,
Joe Finger,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
These Immortal Souls,
Cluster,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
ABC,
Derrick May,
Albert Ayler,
The Modern Lovers,
Crooked Eye,
Trumans Water,
Rapeman,
Pantaleimon,
Tres Demented,
Mission of Burma,
Terry Callier,
Rufus Thomas,
Peter and Kerry,
Porter Ricks,
Alphaville,
Fluxion,
Bauhaus,
the Slits,
8 Eyed Spy,
Soulsonic Force,
The Human League,
Cybotron,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lou Reed,
Howard Jones,
Depeche Mode,
Delta 5,
Icehouse,
Deakin,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Suicide,
Aloha Tigers,
Grandmaster Flash,
John Coltrane,
Jesper Dahlback,
Big Daddy Kane,
Minor Threat,
Drexciya,
The Fuzztones,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.