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 the UAE and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry's Kids,
Q65,
Sun Ra,
E-Dancer,
The Buckinghams,
Piero Umiliani,
The Divine Comedy,
Marvin Gaye,
The Shadows of Knight,
Newcleus,
Michelle Simonal,
Frankie Knuckles,
Interpol,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pagans,
the Fania All-Stars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Magma,
Grauzone,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Icehouse,
Connie Case,
Sonny Sharrock,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Walker Brothers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Technova,
Minutemen,
The New Christs,
This Heat,
Eric Dolphy,
the Association,
Theoretical Girls,
R.M.O.,
Alphaville,
Swans,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Gun Club,
Con Funk Shun,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Schoolly D,
David McCallum,
Glenn Branca,
Ponytail,
Alice Coltrane,
The Count Five,
Kenny Larkin,
UT,
Eric B and Rakim,
Maleditus Sound,
Henry Cow,
Average White Band,
F. McDonald,
Max Romeo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Chris Corsano,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.