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 Norway and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and New York.
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 linndrum 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 Bob Dylan to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Moleskins,
Jesper Dahlback,
Joe Smooth,
Barbara Tucker,
Television,
Brand Nubian,
the Slits,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cluster,
The Barracudas,
The Toasters,
Junior Murvin,
The Fortunes,
The Standells,
The Mojo Men,
Electric Prunes,
Mission of Burma,
Parry Music,
Symarip,
Curtis Mayfield,
Thee Headcoats,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Brothers Johnson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Susan Cadogan,
New Order,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Sonics,
Cameo,
Skarface,
Whodini,
Vainqueur,
Royal Trux,
Ultimate Spinach,
Roger Hodgson,
Dorothy Ashby,
Peter & Gordon,
The Fugs,
Rosa Yemen,
Suicide,
Scientists,
E-Dancer,
Faraquet,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Swans,
The Dave Clark Five,
Visage,
Amazonics,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sex Pistols,
The Alarm Clocks,
Babytalk,
X-Ray Spex,
Public Enemy,
Pantytec,
Donny Hathaway,
The Zeros,
Andrew Hill,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.