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 Liberia and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the electroclash 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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Animal Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Bob Dylan,
The Monochrome Set,
Roxette,
The Velvet Underground,
New Age Steppers,
DJ Sneak,
Warsaw,
Michelle Simonal,
Sällskapet,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Barbara Tucker,
Slick Rick,
Ossler,
Josef K,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bill Wells,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sparks,
The Move,
Bill Near,
Clear Light,
The Blackbyrds,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Joensuu 1685,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Spoonie Gee,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lakeside,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
X-Ray Spex,
Fat Boys,
Whodini,
Altered Images,
June of 44,
Gregory Isaacs,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Flipper,
Rhythm & Sound,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Second Layer,
Icehouse,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Durutti Column,
Quando Quango,
Derrick May,
David McCallum,
Babytalk,
the Sonics,
Davy DMX,
Eli Mardock,
Kurtis Blow,
Ornette Coleman,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tomorrow,
Arcadia,
Dawn Penn,
Underground Resistance,
10cc,
Pharoah Sanders,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.