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 Egypt and from Glasgow.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 oboe 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 B.T. Express to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Lakeside,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Moss Icon,
Robert Hood,
David McCallum,
Radiopuhelimet,
Man Eating Sloth,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Associates,
Black Bananas,
Monolake,
The Dead C,
Mission of Burma,
The Mummies,
Bootsy Collins,
Masters at Work,
John Lydon,
The Move,
Michelle Simonal,
Suicide,
The Gladiators,
Skriet,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Cramps,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Robert Wyatt,
The Human League,
Eli Mardock,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Funky Four + One,
Sarah Menescal,
Rod Modell,
Kenny Larkin,
Intrusion,
Unrelated Segments,
Main Source,
The Beau Brummels,
Danielle Patucci,
The Knickerbockers,
Nick Fraelich,
Reagan Youth,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Arcadia,
In Retrospect,
Television,
Black Flag,
Godley & Creme,
Ponytail,
The Fugs,
Sonic Youth,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Fire Engines,
Bobby Byrd,
Howard Jones,
Can,
Derrick May,
The Shadows of Knight,
Agent Orange,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.