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 Guinea and from Seoul.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Technova to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Jeff Mills,
Dennis Brown,
The Human League,
The Fuzztones,
This Heat,
Sight & Sound,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sun Ra,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Gories,
Robert Görl,
Tears for Fears,
Roger Hodgson,
Soft Cell,
The Cure,
Johnny Clarke,
Urselle,
John Holt,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Trumans Water,
Pulsallama,
Radio Birdman,
One Last Wish,
the Germs,
Bobby Womack,
Outsiders,
Black Moon,
Bobby Sherman,
K-Klass,
E-Dancer,
the Association,
Charles Mingus,
Loose Ends,
Silicon Teens,
Harpers Bizarre,
Anthony Braxton,
Quantec,
X-102,
Cymande,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Section 25,
Drexciya,
Kerri Chandler,
The Smoke,
Hoover,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rosa Yemen,
Procol Harum,
Dead Boys,
In Retrospect,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ohio Players,
David Bowie,
Circle Jerks,
Derrick May,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mr. Review,
Boredoms,
The Buckinghams,
Electric Prunes,
Darondo,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.