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 Sri Lanka and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 theremin 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 Gap Band to the punk 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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
The American Breed,
Chris Corsano,
Crooked Eye,
Electric Prunes,
The Pop Group,
Icehouse,
Angry Samoans,
T.S.O.L.,
Gastr Del Sol,
John Foxx,
The Standells,
The Fire Engines,
Donny Hathaway,
Nick Fraelich,
Ludus,
Boredoms,
The Gories,
The Leaves,
Country Teasers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Unwound,
Kenny Larkin,
The Wake,
Monolake,
Dark Day,
Bang On A Can,
Lakeside,
Scan 7,
The Busters,
Rotary Connection,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fortunes,
Sight & Sound,
Tres Demented,
Average White Band,
Skarface,
Matthew Halsall,
Moby Grape,
The Real Kids,
Freddie Wadling,
Black Moon,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bootsy Collins,
Tropical Tobacco,
ABBA,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Marine Girls,
Donald Byrd,
Arab on Radar,
Terry Callier,
Connie Case,
The Red Krayola,
Traffic Nightmare,
Silicon Teens,
Eric B and Rakim,
Todd Terry,
Mo-Dettes,
Agitation Free,
Talk Talk,
Joyce Sims,
David Axelrod,
Idris Muhammad,
June Days,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.