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 Somalia and from Salvador.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Houston.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro 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 John Foxx to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Pretty Things,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bang On A Can,
The Invisible,
Anthony Braxton,
Crispian St. Peters,
Index,
Dual Sessions,
Big Daddy Kane,
EPMD,
Warsaw,
The Selecter,
U.S. Maple,
The Velvet Underground,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Piero Umiliani,
The Slits,
Gichy Dan,
Fluxion,
New York Dolls,
Model 500,
Flamin' Groovies,
Boz Scaggs,
a-ha,
Ronan,
Matthew Halsall,
Spandau Ballet,
Laurel Aitken,
Ice-T,
The Music Machine,
Harmonia,
The Real Kids,
Lightning Bolt,
Basic Channel,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Faraquet,
Kayak,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Arcadia,
Swell Maps,
The Gories,
Wings,
The Fire Engines,
Funkadelic,
Eddi Front,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Raincoats,
Jesper Dahlback,
These Immortal Souls,
Cecil Taylor,
Suicide,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Agitation Free,
Quando Quango,
Peter and Kerry,
Eric Copeland,
Pole,
The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight.
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.