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 Latvia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Rekid to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
the Fania All-Stars,
Adolescents,
Hot Snakes,
The Walker Brothers,
DNA,
Eli Mardock,
Zapp,
World's Most,
Wasted Youth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Reuben Wilson,
Swell Maps,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Andrew Hill,
Bluetip,
Ken Boothe,
Josef K,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Eddi Front,
The Neon Judgement,
The Names,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Camouflage,
Royal Trux,
Lightning Bolt,
Roger Hodgson,
Lou Reed,
The Moody Blues,
Popol Vuh,
Unwound,
New York Dolls,
L. Decosne,
Interpol,
Icehouse,
Bronski Beat,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Johnny Osbourne,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Last Poets,
Jacques Brel,
Shuggie Otis,
The Star Department,
Eric Dolphy,
Massinfluence,
Blancmange,
Sparks,
Amon Düül II,
Duran Duran,
The Invisible,
Cybotron,
Ponytail,
Pantaleimon,
Tres Demented,
The Dave Clark Five,
Zero Boys,
The Pop Group,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bobby Byrd,
The Move,
Tommy Roe,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.