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 Poland and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 kango's stein massive to the techno 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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Archie Shepp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Roger Hodgson,
Lightning Bolt,
Blossom Toes,
Pierre Henry,
Neu!,
Theoretical Girls,
Marshall Jefferson,
Oneida,
The Angels of Light,
Crispy Ambulance,
Anakelly,
Motorama,
Gichy Dan,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nick Fraelich,
Q65,
Mark Hollis,
Glenn Branca,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wings,
Eli Mardock,
Archie Shepp,
the Bar-Kays,
Scratch Acid,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Real Kids,
Tears for Fears,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
H. Thieme,
Eurythmics,
Kurtis Blow,
The Happenings,
The Moody Blues,
Talk Talk,
Barrington Levy,
The Selecter,
Marmalade,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Robert Görl,
Royal Trux,
Bill Near,
Janne Schatter,
Erykah Badu,
Black Sheep,
AZ,
Minnie Riperton,
Magazine,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bauhaus,
Colin Newman,
KRS-One,
Organ,
Jacques Brel,
Fela Kuti,
Delta 5,
The Offenders,
Buzzcocks,
UT,
Lyres,
Alison Limerick,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.