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 Moldova and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Davy DMX to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
The Remains,
The Beau Brummels,
Pussy Galore,
Malaria!,
Intrusion,
Shoche,
Banda Bassotti,
Underground Resistance,
Tim Buckley,
Max Romeo,
Patti Smith,
Thee Headcoats,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gang of Four,
Lightning Bolt,
Brand Nubian,
Skarface,
Metal Thangz,
The Buckinghams,
Graham Central Station,
Toni Rubio,
The Techniques,
Bobby Womack,
Marine Girls,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Newcleus,
The Cowsills,
Rotary Connection,
Bang On A Can,
Drive Like Jehu,
Depeche Mode,
These Immortal Souls,
Flash Fearless,
Sandy B,
Suicide,
the Swans,
Carl Craig,
The Human League,
Jeru the Damaja,
JFA,
Yaz,
the Slits,
Siglo XX,
The Gladiators,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
John Foxx,
Al Stewart,
Blake Baxter,
Youth Brigade,
F. McDonald,
The Fortunes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Neil Young,
Kaleidoscope,
The Durutti Column,
Jacques Brel,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bronski Beat,
Alison Limerick,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.