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 Liechtenstein and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 synthesizer 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 Echospace to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Accadde A. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a cv313 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Delta 5,
Eric B and Rakim,
Young Marble Giants,
Cheater Slicks,
The Blues Magoos,
Eden Ahbez,
Supertramp,
Rakim,
AZ,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mission of Burma,
The Dirtbombs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
MC5,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Darondo,
Crash Course in Science,
Roxy Music,
Swans,
The Sonics,
X-Ray Spex,
The Cure,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Selecter,
Archie Shepp,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Deepchord,
Robert Hood,
Popol Vuh,
The Zeros,
DNA,
Laurel Aitken,
Ken Boothe,
Clear Light,
Babytalk,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Stetsasonic,
Eric Dolphy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Monochrome Set,
F. McDonald,
Bad Manners,
Jeff Mills,
The Divine Comedy,
Robert Görl,
the Normal,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Detroit Cobras,
Todd Terry,
Loose Ends,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Khruangbin,
Swell Maps,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Brothers Johnson,
Con Funk Shun,
The J.B.'s,
Circle Jerks,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.