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 Maldives and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manila.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 New Order to the dance 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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Black Moon,
Con Funk Shun,
Bronski Beat,
Isaac Hayes,
Mars,
The Moody Blues,
Clear Light,
Parry Music,
The Vogues,
The Names,
Metal Thangz,
Pulsallama,
Suicide,
ABBA,
Maurizio,
Ossler,
Amazonics,
H. Thieme,
Duran Duran,
Ponytail,
Model 500,
Matthew Bourne,
Circle Jerks,
Soft Cell,
Marc Almond,
Arab on Radar,
Ultimate Spinach,
Stockholm Monsters,
Roxy Music,
The Slackers,
Susan Cadogan,
Terry Callier,
The Monks,
New Age Steppers,
Whodini,
The Barracudas,
The Gap Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Interpol,
Sugar Minott,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Wake,
Scott Walker,
Juan Atkins,
Howard Jones,
Main Source,
The Real Kids,
Stetsasonic,
Joey Negro,
Gang Starr,
Freddie Wadling,
Mantronix,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mandrill,
The Knickerbockers,
Barbara Tucker,
Brothers Johnson,
Massinfluence,
Minny Pops,
Cybotron,
Y Pants,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.