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 Uganda and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Graham Central Station to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Eric B and Rakim,
Moss Icon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Steve Hackett,
Parry Music,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sparks,
FM Einheit,
Marvin Gaye,
Dawn Penn,
The Evens,
Gang Gang Dance,
Roger Hodgson,
One Last Wish,
Arthur Verocai,
Excepter,
Saccharine Trust,
Mission of Burma,
Girls At Our Best!,
Swans,
Toni Rubio,
Morten Harket,
Masters at Work,
Eli Mardock,
Black Flag,
Maleditus Sound,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
a-ha,
Oblivians,
Chrome,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
K-Klass,
Maurizio,
Von Mondo,
Franke,
Gerry Rafferty,
Marcia Griffiths,
Radiopuhelimet,
Boredoms,
Cymande,
Bronski Beat,
Lungfish,
Freddie Wadling,
The Wake,
Lindisfarne,
The Detroit Cobras,
Crooked Eye,
The United States of America,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bobby Sherman,
The Gun Club,
Robert Hood,
Gang Green,
Sugar Minott,
Rotary Connection,
Panda Bear,
The Star Department,
Minny Pops,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Camberwell Now,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet.
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.