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 Uruguay and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Tubeway Army to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye 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 punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar 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?
Grandmaster Flash,
The Leaves,
Joensuu 1685,
Flamin' Groovies,
Q and Not U,
10cc,
T. Rex,
Quadrant,
Gang of Four,
Flipper,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Deadbeat,
Althea and Donna,
Grauzone,
Country Teasers,
Sugar Minott,
Excepter,
New Age Steppers,
The Zeros,
Scott Walker,
The Blues Magoos,
Mo-Dettes,
AZ,
The Mummies,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Soft Cell,
Blossom Toes,
Henry Cow,
The Residents,
CMW,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bang On A Can,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The New Christs,
Tommy Roe,
The Evens,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bronski Beat,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Popol Vuh,
Yaz,
Moebius,
Ronan,
The American Breed,
Bobby Sherman,
Arab on Radar,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Smiths,
Thompson Twins,
The Motions,
Siglo XX,
Inner City,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lee Hazlewood,
Juan Atkins,
Shoche,
Deepchord,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Fania All-Stars,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.