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 Australia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Music Machine to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
Kaleidoscope,
Ken Boothe,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pharoah Sanders,
Wasted Youth,
Brass Construction,
The Dirtbombs,
Bronski Beat,
Vladislav Delay,
Simply Red,
The Pretty Things,
Barbara Tucker,
the Human League,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Clear Light,
Jeff Lynne,
Donald Byrd,
The Cure,
Neil Young,
Eric Dolphy,
Suburban Knight,
Sex Pistols,
Maurizio,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ultimate Spinach,
Panda Bear,
The Standells,
Malaria!,
Minny Pops,
Porter Ricks,
Roxette,
Spoonie Gee,
Kenny Larkin,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rosa Yemen,
Funky Four + One,
Barry Ungar,
The Fire Engines,
Underground Resistance,
Sandy B,
Gichy Dan,
Supertramp,
Roxy Music,
Loose Ends,
Yusef Lateef,
Audionom,
the Sonics,
Sarah Menescal,
David Bowie,
The Searchers,
Sister Nancy,
Infiniti,
The Skatalites,
The Saints,
The Remains,
Faust,
Hardrive,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.