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 Netherlands and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
Matthew Halsall,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
DJ Sneak,
Nas,
The Moody Blues,
Brand Nubian,
L. Decosne,
Radiopuhelimet,
Byron Stingily,
Das Ding,
Black Flag,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bauhaus,
kango's stein massive,
The Cramps,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bobby Byrd,
Masters at Work,
Avey Tare,
Underground Resistance,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Barracudas,
Supertramp,
The Fuzztones,
Jacob Miller,
Cluster,
Parry Music,
the Soft Cell,
Thompson Twins,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Electric Prunes,
R.M.O.,
Angry Samoans,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Country Teasers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Move,
Gil Scott Heron,
Livin' Joy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Albert Ayler,
Zero Boys,
Porter Ricks,
the Association,
Skarface,
Jeff Mills,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Searchers,
Flash Fearless,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ronan,
Brass Construction,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
the Human League,
Khruangbin,
Vladislav Delay,
Babytalk,
Blake Baxter,
Gang of Four,
Ossler,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.