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 Chad and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 K-Klass to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Goldenarms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Inner City,
Ossler,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Hasil Adkins,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Josef K,
Peter and Kerry,
Colin Newman,
Jerry's Kids,
Tomorrow,
Angry Samoans,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kayak,
The Modern Lovers,
L. Decosne,
Trumans Water,
June of 44,
Audionom,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bronski Beat,
Lightning Bolt,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Animal Collective,
Patti Smith,
Susan Cadogan,
La Düsseldorf,
The Red Krayola,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Soft Cell,
Lucky Dragons,
Spoonie Gee,
Sonny Sharrock,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Dark Day,
Blake Baxter,
Barbara Tucker,
Q65,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Q and Not U,
Al Stewart,
Basic Channel,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Soul Sonic Force,
Janne Schatter,
Barry Ungar,
Bobby Sherman,
Skaos,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pantaleimon,
Nik Kershaw,
Iggy Pop,
Derrick Morgan,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.