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 Madagascar and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 synthesizer 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 Ronan to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Roger Hodgson,
Royal Trux,
Eden Ahbez,
Urselle,
Monolake,
Kurtis Blow,
Ituana,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Smiths,
The Standells,
The Alarm Clocks,
In Retrospect,
Swans,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Bar-Kays,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dual Sessions,
Harpers Bizarre,
Moss Icon,
Q and Not U,
Tears for Fears,
Subhumans,
the Normal,
Rites of Spring,
Nick Fraelich,
Massinfluence,
Monks,
The Saints,
Marine Girls,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Absolute Body Control,
Gabor Szabo,
F. McDonald,
Symarip,
Amon Düül II,
Pere Ubu,
The Smoke,
Toni Rubio,
Bluetip,
Ten City,
Curtis Mayfield,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Flipper,
Jacques Brel,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Seeds,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Stiv Bators,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bill Wells,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sarah Menescal,
Faust,
Gang Green,
Byron Stingily,
E-Dancer,
The Doobie Brothers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.