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 Brazil and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Alphaville to the disco 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Avey Tare,
Y Pants,
Pere Ubu,
Jeff Mills,
Aloha Tigers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Danielle Patucci,
Faust,
Smog,
Byron Stingily,
Interpol,
Kaleidoscope,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Nico,
the Soft Cell,
Ponytail,
Livin' Joy,
Loose Ends,
Fat Boys,
Drexciya,
Mantronix,
Skriet,
The Techniques,
Talk Talk,
Ice-T,
Sandy B,
Dawn Penn,
Quadrant,
Second Layer,
Unwound,
Cluster,
Sex Pistols,
Los Fastidios,
June Days,
Soul II Soul,
The Moody Blues,
Suburban Knight,
Half Japanese,
Matthew Bourne,
B.T. Express,
Pylon,
R.M.O.,
the Bar-Kays,
Average White Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Soft Cell,
Wally Richardson,
Warren Ellis,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rotary Connection,
a-ha,
Prince Buster,
Blossom Toes,
The Index,
Underground Resistance,
The Five Americans,
10cc,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.