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 Spain and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 cv313 to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Standells. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pagans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mad Mike,
Motorama,
Lightning Bolt,
Arthur Verocai,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Hoover,
The Electric Prunes,
Index,
D'Angelo,
The Mojo Men,
Porter Ricks,
Mary Jane Girls,
China Crisis,
Brand Nubian,
Patti Smith,
Graham Central Station,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
DJ Sneak,
Popol Vuh,
X-101,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Clear Light,
Lindisfarne,
E-Dancer,
Circle Jerks,
Audionom,
The Walker Brothers,
Peter and Kerry,
The Searchers,
The Fugs,
Crispy Ambulance,
UT,
Ossler,
The Associates,
Icehouse,
The American Breed,
Stiv Bators,
The Blues Magoos,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Selecter,
Black Pus,
JFA,
the Human League,
Gang Starr,
Loose Ends,
The Birthday Party,
Magazine,
Moby Grape,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Qualms,
Archie Shepp,
Nas,
Crooked Eye,
Rites of Spring,
Quando Quango,
Colin Newman,
Nik Kershaw,
Harry Pussy,
Fad Gadget,
Jeff Mills,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.