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 Malaysia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 clarinet 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 the Soft Cell to the rap 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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
cv313,
The Modern Lovers,
Circle Jerks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mantronix,
Absolute Body Control,
Crooked Eye,
Zero Boys,
Crash Course in Science,
The Fire Engines,
Ultimate Spinach,
Alton Ellis,
Radiohead,
Essential Logic,
Hoover,
The Star Department,
Kevin Saunderson,
Blossom Toes,
Nik Kershaw,
the Association,
Groovy Waters,
Das Ding,
Liliput,
China Crisis,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jandek,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Subhumans,
A Certain Ratio,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nas,
John Lydon,
Graham Central Station,
Youth Brigade,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
DJ Style,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Harry Pussy,
Eric Copeland,
F. McDonald,
Minor Threat,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dual Sessions,
Desert Stars,
Gang Gang Dance,
Wire,
Nirvana,
Khruangbin,
The Mummies,
Surgeon,
Max Romeo,
The Kinks,
K-Klass,
The Buckinghams,
Steve Hackett,
Carl Craig,
Tubeway Army,
Mission of Burma,
Hashim,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.