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 Ecuador and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bobby Sherman to the crunk 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '50s 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 Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Second Layer,
Johnny Osbourne,
Man Parrish,
The Vogues,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gang Gang Dance,
Nico,
Byron Stingily,
Banda Bassotti,
Eddi Front,
Kayak,
Harry Pussy,
H. Thieme,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Matthew Bourne,
The Neon Judgement,
Delta 5,
The Raincoats,
Agitation Free,
Joe Finger,
Boredoms,
Toni Rubio,
Brothers Johnson,
Organ,
Bobby Sherman,
48th St. Collective,
Patti Smith,
Pylon,
Kurtis Blow,
Joy Division,
Hoover,
Cheater Slicks,
The Five Americans,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Swell Maps,
Easy Going,
Terrestrial Tones,
Maleditus Sound,
Massinfluence,
Tres Demented,
Negative Approach,
The Evens,
Roger Hodgson,
The Gap Band,
Amon Düül,
The Pretty Things,
Pantaleimon,
Hashim,
Charles Mingus,
Eric Copeland,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Black Pus,
Electric Prunes,
Lyres,
The Toasters,
Popol Vuh,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.