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 Guatemala and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Traffic Nightmare to the grunge 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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Aswad,
Gregory Isaacs,
Chris Corsano,
Sarah Menescal,
China Crisis,
Graham Central Station,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Happenings,
X-Ray Spex,
Inner City,
Icehouse,
Dead Boys,
Joey Negro,
MC5,
Fatback Band,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Severed Heads,
Terry Callier,
Arab on Radar,
Scratch Acid,
Franke,
Steve Hackett,
The Wake,
The Human League,
The Moody Blues,
Brass Construction,
Arcadia,
The Leaves,
The Seeds,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Siglo XX,
Cameo,
Country Teasers,
Donald Byrd,
David Bowie,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pierre Henry,
Fort Wilson Riot,
DNA,
John Cale,
Archie Shepp,
Jeff Mills,
Tim Buckley,
Dennis Brown,
Unwound,
Frankie Knuckles,
Amon Düül,
Soft Cell,
Magma,
The Toasters,
Scion,
Rapeman,
Johnny Osbourne,
Drexciya,
Althea and Donna,
Oblivians,
Masters at Work,
Oneida,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jacques Brel,
The Associates,
Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection.
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.