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 Estonia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 harpsichord 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 Dorothy Ashby to the grunge 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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Nik Kershaw,
Tears for Fears,
Marc Almond,
Neil Young,
Dennis Brown,
Wings,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rites of Spring,
Soulsonic Force,
T. Rex,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lungfish,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ultravox,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Slits,
The Evens,
Amon Düül,
Buzzcocks,
Negative Approach,
The Skatalites,
Technova,
E-Dancer,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Mo-Dettes,
John Holt,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Boredoms,
Scott Walker,
Roy Ayers,
Sex Pistols,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Human League,
The Cramps,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Banda Bassotti,
Michelle Simonal,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dark Day,
R.M.O.,
Ronan,
June Days,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kerrie Biddell,
Soft Machine,
Sound Behaviour,
Alison Limerick,
FM Einheit,
48th St. Collective,
Qualms,
The Monks,
Graham Central Station,
Pulsallama,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
the Sonics,
Flash Fearless,
the Association,
Minny Pops,
The Fugs,
The Mummies,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions.
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.