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 Equatorial Guinea and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Winnipeg.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 Mission of Burma to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth 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 linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Toni Rubio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Alice Coltrane,
Traffic Nightmare,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bluetip,
Simply Red,
Banda Bassotti,
The Moody Blues,
The Invisible,
Kas Product,
Talk Talk,
The Zeros,
Au Pairs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
kango's stein massive,
Alphaville,
Idris Muhammad,
Spoonie Gee,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Von Mondo,
Brothers Johnson,
Sun Ra,
Quantec,
The New Christs,
Mary Jane Girls,
Swans,
Youth Brigade,
Das Ding,
The Blackbyrds,
Dawn Penn,
Eric Copeland,
Stiv Bators,
Joyce Sims,
The Mummies,
The Index,
48th St. Collective,
Essential Logic,
Young Marble Giants,
The Smiths,
Scratch Acid,
Leonard Cohen,
Ronnie Foster,
Radio Birdman,
Jesper Dahlback,
Loose Ends,
Mo-Dettes,
a-ha,
Scientists,
Model 500,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Colin Newman,
David Axelrod,
Infiniti,
T. Rex,
The Grass Roots,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pussy Galore,
James White and The Blacks,
The Modern Lovers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Peter & Gordon,
Goldenarms,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.