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 Chile and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 48th St. Collective to the disco 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
The Raincoats,
Derrick May,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
ABBA,
Ituana,
Massinfluence,
Pylon,
Erasure,
Radiohead,
Iggy Pop,
Theoretical Girls,
Connie Case,
Michelle Simonal,
X-101,
Electric Prunes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Skriet,
New Age Steppers,
Sugar Minott,
Andrew Hill,
Adolescents,
The Mojo Men,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Public Image Ltd.,
Public Enemy,
Half Japanese,
Make Up,
Kayak,
CMW,
Sun Ra,
Slave,
Agitation Free,
Avey Tare,
Barrington Levy,
Aloha Tigers,
Scrapy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jeru the Damaja,
Boz Scaggs,
John Coltrane,
Eric Copeland,
Erykah Badu,
Crispy Ambulance,
June of 44,
Lyres,
Funkadelic,
Warren Ellis,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Byron Stingily,
E-Dancer,
Ultravox,
Wally Richardson,
Angry Samoans,
Aswad,
Ronnie Foster,
The Names,
The Count Five,
Steve Hackett,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.