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 Croatia and from Delhi.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 mellotron 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 Ultravox to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Hardrive,
Radio Birdman,
The Standells,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Names,
Porter Ricks,
Cameo,
Jacques Brel,
Maleditus Sound,
Be Bop Deluxe,
In Retrospect,
Spoonie Gee,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Donald Byrd,
Bill Near,
Pantaleimon,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bobby Byrd,
Ice-T,
Slave,
Lalann,
The Leaves,
The Move,
Sound Behaviour,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Letta Mbulu,
The Divine Comedy,
Moby Grape,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Schoolly D,
Thee Headcoats,
Traffic Nightmare,
The J.B.'s,
The Gories,
The Monks,
F. McDonald,
the Sonics,
The Modern Lovers,
The Gladiators,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Velvet Underground,
Simply Red,
Tropical Tobacco,
Black Flag,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eden Ahbez,
Arab on Radar,
Mandrill,
Severed Heads,
10cc,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Vainqueur,
cv313,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dawn Penn,
48th St. Collective,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.