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 Marshall Islands and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 sitar 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Loose Ends. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
Pole,
Michelle Simonal,
Mad Mike,
Skarface,
T.S.O.L.,
Judy Mowatt,
Kurtis Blow,
Johnny Osbourne,
Radiopuhelimet,
David McCallum,
Wally Richardson,
Bad Manners,
The Sound,
The Move,
Joyce Sims,
The Remains,
Echospace,
Procol Harum,
John Foxx,
Reagan Youth,
It's A Beautiful Day,
FM Einheit,
Cheater Slicks,
AZ,
The Residents,
Ossler,
The Monochrome Set,
Yazoo,
Harry Pussy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lebanon Hanover,
Cecil Taylor,
Supertramp,
The Searchers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Desert Stars,
Mandrill,
Index,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Gladiators,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Gang Green,
Frankie Knuckles,
Robert Hood,
Monolake,
Pulsallama,
E-Dancer,
Crime,
Urselle,
Connie Case,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
New York Dolls,
The Fire Engines,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Massinfluence,
Marc Almond,
The Monks,
Steve Hackett,
Rotary Connection,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.