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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Franke to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Visage,
Tommy Roe,
Cymande,
Underground Resistance,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ponytail,
Juan Atkins,
The Raincoats,
Crispian St. Peters,
Main Source,
Peter & Gordon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Kinks,
Supertramp,
Fad Gadget,
The Misunderstood,
Royal Trux,
Dorothy Ashby,
Essential Logic,
Aural Exciters,
Rufus Thomas,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Scrapy,
Masters at Work,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Sonics,
Alton Ellis,
The Beau Brummels,
the Slits,
The Zeros,
The Smiths,
The Flesh Eaters,
Shuggie Otis,
Arthur Verocai,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
U.S. Maple,
Dead Boys,
Adolescents,
Be Bop Deluxe,
A Certain Ratio,
The Toasters,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Zapp,
The Victims,
Boredoms,
Swans,
Lyres,
Eve St. Jones,
Thompson Twins,
K-Klass,
Amazonics,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Donald Byrd,
Jesper Dahlback,
Oblivians,
The Remains,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Knickerbockers,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.