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 Grenada and from Edmonton.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Marvin Gaye to the techno 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
Parry Music,
Talk Talk,
Warsaw,
The Gladiators,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The United States of America,
Monks,
Con Funk Shun,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Soft Cell,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Eden Ahbez,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jerry Gold Smith,
FM Einheit,
Wally Richardson,
Ten City,
Dawn Penn,
Hot Snakes,
The Fuzztones,
Severed Heads,
Black Pus,
Electric Prunes,
The Cowsills,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Flipper,
Crash Course in Science,
The Monochrome Set,
The Fugs,
Circle Jerks,
Qualms,
8 Eyed Spy,
Porter Ricks,
Soft Machine,
The Star Department,
Lalo Schifrin,
Adolescents,
Deadbeat,
Janne Schatter,
Iggy Pop,
Tears for Fears,
the Swans,
Minutemen,
Soft Cell,
Fugazi,
Youth Brigade,
The Index,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bronski Beat,
Yazoo,
The Monks,
Bill Near,
Theoretical Girls,
Isaac Hayes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Motions,
Sixth Finger,
Tom Boy,
The Happenings,
Brass Construction,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.