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 Israel and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 The Doobie Brothers to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Anakelly. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Cowsills,
Wolf Eyes,
Kerri Chandler,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lebanon Hanover,
Marshall Jefferson,
Moebius,
AZ,
Davy DMX,
Mandrill,
Minor Threat,
DJ Style,
Ohio Players,
Mars,
Moby Grape,
Ice-T,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Star Department,
Danielle Patucci,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Invisible,
Lyres,
Scott Walker,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Quantec,
Absolute Body Control,
Darondo,
Lou Christie,
Howard Jones,
Aaron Thompson,
Kaleidoscope,
Can,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Dead C,
Section 25,
Depeche Mode,
Mr. Review,
K-Klass,
Colin Newman,
Fatback Band,
DJ Sneak,
48th St. Collective,
Wasted Youth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Dawn Penn,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sixth Finger,
the Fania All-Stars,
Peter and Kerry,
Sight & Sound,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Robert Görl,
Donald Byrd,
Accadde A,
Faraquet,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.