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 Botswana and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pet Shop Boys to the disco 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Goldenarms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Teasers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Icehouse,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Drive Like Jehu,
T.S.O.L.,
The Sonics,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eden Ahbez,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ice-T,
Ituana,
The Gladiators,
The Angels of Light,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gang of Four,
Deepchord,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Susan Cadogan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Man Parrish,
Mars,
Scrapy,
Henry Cow,
Spoonie Gee,
Stetsasonic,
Ronan,
Tim Buckley,
Stiv Bators,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gastr Del Sol,
T. Rex,
The Saints,
Cybotron,
Moss Icon,
Buzzcocks,
Yusef Lateef,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Wire,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Wally Richardson,
Procol Harum,
Jesper Dahlback,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Selecter,
Goldenarms,
Cymande,
Bobby Byrd,
D'Angelo,
Lower 48,
ABC,
The Five Americans,
Spandau Ballet,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Traffic Nightmare,
LL Cool J,
Tommy Roe,
Altered Images,
Jandek,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eric Copeland,
A Certain Ratio,
Surgeon,
Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D.
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.