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 Latvia and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Ronnie Foster to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joyce Sims,
Ultravox,
Lyres,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Germs,
U.S. Maple,
Suburban Knight,
Moebius,
Lalo Schifrin,
Aloha Tigers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Anakelly,
Henry Cow,
The Fire Engines,
Jandek,
Dark Day,
Gerry Rafferty,
Section 25,
Sister Nancy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Malaria!,
the Sonics,
The Mojo Men,
The Gladiators,
The Sound,
John Cale,
John Foxx,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rites of Spring,
The Searchers,
Pagans,
Bobby Sherman,
Scott Walker,
The Pop Group,
Michelle Simonal,
Gil Scott Heron,
Andrew Hill,
Dennis Brown,
Brothers Johnson,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Qualms,
Danielle Patucci,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Maurizio,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ultra Naté,
Model 500,
Arthur Verocai,
Bob Dylan,
Joe Finger,
Ossler,
Pantytec,
The Grass Roots,
T. Rex,
Reuben Wilson,
Pole,
Sun Ra,
Derrick May,
Rekid,
Mo-Dettes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.