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 Pakistan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ken Boothe to the disco 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 The Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oblivians record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Ultravox,
The Martian,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sugar Minott,
Agent Orange,
Boogie Down Productions,
Man Parrish,
Subhumans,
Moss Icon,
The Moody Blues,
The Walker Brothers,
Bootsy Collins,
Bizarre Inc.,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Donald Byrd,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Red Krayola,
Juan Atkins,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bauhaus,
Roxette,
Rites of Spring,
Kayak,
Boredoms,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Von Mondo,
Silicon Teens,
Black Moon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Reagan Youth,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sarah Menescal,
Quadrant,
Surgeon,
Davy DMX,
Porter Ricks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Malaria!,
Interpol,
Hot Snakes,
The Mummies,
Flash Fearless,
Big Daddy Kane,
Excepter,
The Gun Club,
Robert Görl,
Cymande,
The Neon Judgement,
Avey Tare,
Faraquet,
The Black Dice,
Ituana,
Liliput,
Ronan,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Grass Roots,
Sight & Sound,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Morten Harket,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.