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 Korea South and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Standells to the punk 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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a cv313 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agitation Free,
Kerri Chandler,
Wally Richardson,
Angry Samoans,
Yellowson,
The Cramps,
The New Christs,
The American Breed,
the Association,
James White and The Blacks,
Bob Dylan,
Glambeats Corp.,
Grauzone,
Amon Düül,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gastr Del Sol,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Buzzcocks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gang of Four,
Altered Images,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mantronix,
Pussy Galore,
Pylon,
John Cale,
Eli Mardock,
Skarface,
Roger Hodgson,
The Divine Comedy,
B.T. Express,
The Barracudas,
Juan Atkins,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Boogie Down Productions,
Iggy Pop,
Panda Bear,
Janne Schatter,
The Wake,
Lungfish,
Camouflage,
Bobby Byrd,
Jacob Miller,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Stetsasonic,
Harmonia,
Surgeon,
The Martian,
Scratch Acid,
Avey Tare,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mark Hollis,
Ultravox,
Negative Approach,
Soul Sonic Force,
Scion,
Gang Starr,
Eric Dolphy,
Black Pus,
Masters at Work,
Cybotron,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.