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 Macedonia and from Hong Kong.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Camberwell Now to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Qualms,
Neil Young,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Urselle,
The Remains,
New Order,
Joyce Sims,
The Motions,
Fad Gadget,
Marine Girls,
Lakeside,
Gong,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Soft Cell,
Ultra Naté,
Make Up,
Index,
Jerry's Kids,
Altered Images,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Severed Heads,
Chris & Cosey,
Fugazi,
Anakelly,
Roxy Music,
Mars,
Ituana,
Fear,
Radiohead,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Aswad,
Gang Starr,
The Modern Lovers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Inner City,
Johnny Clarke,
Dorothy Ashby,
Yazoo,
Half Japanese,
David Axelrod,
The Sonics,
Scion,
Toni Rubio,
Ohio Players,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Slick Rick,
Deadbeat,
Quantec,
The Moody Blues,
Lou Christie,
Radio Birdman,
Gang of Four,
Gil Scott Heron,
Peter & Gordon,
Aaron Thompson,
Gabor Szabo,
The Electric Prunes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.