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 Botswana and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Busters to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Sixth Finger,
Dave Gahan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Altered Images,
Pharoah Sanders,
Todd Terry,
Urselle,
Essential Logic,
Blossom Toes,
Rufus Thomas,
Isaac Hayes,
Schoolly D,
Animal Collective,
DJ Sneak,
Eve St. Jones,
The Seeds,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Steve Hackett,
The Fuzztones,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cluster,
The Standells,
June of 44,
Black Bananas,
Stereo Dub,
The Names,
48th St. Collective,
The Litter,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ronnie Foster,
The Smiths,
The Grass Roots,
La Düsseldorf,
Erasure,
David Bowie,
Adolescents,
Alison Limerick,
Black Moon,
Scrapy,
Scion,
Flipper,
Howard Jones,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Con Funk Shun,
Agitation Free,
Gerry Rafferty,
Massinfluence,
Piero Umiliani,
Negative Approach,
Man Parrish,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Depeche Mode,
The Divine Comedy,
Groovy Waters,
Deepchord,
Althea and Donna,
The Sonics,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Robert Hood,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.