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 Palau and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bronski Beat 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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Franke,
China Crisis,
Visage,
Goldenarms,
The Last Poets,
The Fuzztones,
These Immortal Souls,
Faust,
Jacques Brel,
Japan,
Jeff Mills,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
La Düsseldorf,
Dark Day,
Black Bananas,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Suburban Knight,
Organ,
Nik Kershaw,
AZ,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Panda Bear,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Blake Baxter,
Yaz,
DNA,
Soft Cell,
Skriet,
Mr. Review,
Junior Murvin,
John Foxx,
Roxette,
Monolake,
The Monks,
Aloha Tigers,
Radiohead,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Shadows of Knight,
FM Einheit,
The Stooges,
The Blues Magoos,
Magazine,
Crispian St. Peters,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Negative Approach,
Mandrill,
The Birthday Party,
Graham Central Station,
Television Personalities,
Nas,
Yazoo,
Babytalk,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
John Coltrane,
Cymande,
The Tremeloes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Brand Nubian,
Eden Ahbez,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.