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 Hungary and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sugar Minott to the grunge 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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bill Wells,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bill Near,
The Young Rascals,
Andrew Hill,
Radiopuhelimet,
Tears for Fears,
Sixth Finger,
John Lydon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dead Boys,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bush Tetras,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Harry Pussy,
Mr. Review,
Aswad,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pagans,
Urselle,
Juan Atkins,
Flipper,
Hoover,
Vladislav Delay,
The Gories,
Graham Central Station,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sparks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sex Pistols,
World's Most,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bobby Sherman,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gang Gang Dance,
Robert Görl,
Lou Christie,
Whodini,
Radio Birdman,
Ponytail,
Grandmaster Flash,
John Holt,
David Bowie,
Chrome,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fat Boys,
Laurel Aitken,
The Golliwogs,
T.S.O.L.,
Jerry's Kids,
Arab on Radar,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Suicide,
The Stooges,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jawbox,
Chris & Cosey,
FM Einheit,
Au Pairs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Swell Maps,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.