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 Russia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warren Ellis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
the Fania All-Stars,
Visage,
Vainqueur,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Negative Approach,
The Cowsills,
Deadbeat,
Black Bananas,
Whodini,
kango's stein massive,
The Motions,
The Saints,
John Lydon,
Blancmange,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Music Machine,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Loose Ends,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eddi Front,
Scion,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Symarip,
Donny Hathaway,
Spoonie Gee,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bauhaus,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Moleskins,
Matthew Bourne,
The Moody Blues,
Desert Stars,
Mr. Review,
Kerrie Biddell,
Fela Kuti,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Leonard Cohen,
the Normal,
Danielle Patucci,
Arab on Radar,
Archie Shepp,
Metal Thangz,
JFA,
Pylon,
Derrick May,
Bob Dylan,
Bronski Beat,
Scientists,
Smog,
Minutemen,
Joyce Sims,
Livin' Joy,
X-101,
Absolute Body Control,
Urselle,
Maurizio,
MC5,
Siglo XX,
Subhumans,
China Crisis,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.