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 Belgium and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Music Machine to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba 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 organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter & Gordon,
Can,
Heaven 17,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Stereo Dub,
Tomorrow,
Simply Red,
The Doors,
Danielle Patucci,
Lalann,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Knickerbockers,
Scrapy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Absolute Body Control,
Boredoms,
the Bar-Kays,
Colin Newman,
Cameo,
John Foxx,
The Doobie Brothers,
Hoover,
Gong,
Mo-Dettes,
Monks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jimmy McGriff,
L. Decosne,
Bill Wells,
Mars,
Bobbi Humphrey,
8 Eyed Spy,
Zapp,
Cheater Slicks,
Section 25,
The Remains,
The J.B.'s,
Delta 5,
Derrick May,
Rhythm & Sound,
Brothers Johnson,
Underground Resistance,
The Sonics,
Tom Boy,
Flipper,
Blancmange,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pulsallama,
Deadbeat,
Yazoo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Marc Almond,
The Golliwogs,
Lyres,
Kool Moe Dee,
Slave,
the Human League,
Pharoah Sanders,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sexual Harrassment,
Siglo XX,
Eve St. Jones,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.